The Rhythm of Freedom
by Sgt. Coolwhip
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is a dancer extraordinaire, but he has lost his ability to be free in his movement and to not be so competitive. That is until he meets a new young dancer with all of the qualities that he has lost since he lost the love of dance he had when he first started. USUK and Franada with mentions of other characters later on along with brief mentions of FrUk.
1. Chapter 1

Sweat poured down Arthur's displeased face as he watched his final position land in the wall of mirrors surrounding him. _It's still not quite right. This position isn't landing the way I want it to _he thought as the final notes of Mr. Saxobeat faded from the speakers. He rushed over to pause his iPod before the next song could begin and cause his brain to start choreographing yet another piece when the one that he was currently working on was so far from perfect. Arthur was an extreme perfectionist and as much as it was strength, it was also his most crippling weakness. He pushed himself so hard to be perfect that it became an obsession that drove away partners, friends, and family almost as soon as they set foot in his studio.

_Maybe I should take a break to think this through. I mean I'm choreographing for two people when I can't get anyone to come in and audition, thanks to my fucking horrible reputation in the dance world_ he mused wiping the sweat from his bushy eyebrows and draping the sweat soaked towel across his somewhat sore shoulders.

He picked up his water bottle with one hand and took off his Union Jack bandanna that held the sweat from back falling into his overly determined green eyes. He tossed the bandanna into the corner and heard a moist smack against the floor. He sighed "3.5 hours of nonstop practicing and still absolutely nothing to show for it. FUCK!" he yelled in frustration and flopped down on the marley.

He took a drink from his water bottle before beginning to stretch himself out in order to start his routine once again. _Perhaps I should consider changing this piece to a solo. I highly doubt that if someone hasn't come in by now they will come in in time to perfect the routine for competition. I'll give it one more day, and then I'm changing if no one shows up_ he thought rising from the floor and walking over to restart his music and rush back to the middle of the floor as the song began once again.

As the music began Arthur closed his eyes and entered the world where nothing but the music could reach him. He opened his eyes and began to let his hips move to the opening of the song. First side to side, then circle in a way that arched his spine and stuck his chest out.

You make me dance

Brings me up

Brings me down

Plays it sweet

Makes me move like a freak

Mr. Saxobeat

His muscles slowly loosened then suddenly tightened as he moved his legs and arms in the same motions that he had done at least 15 times that day. Legs swing opening his body; arms were thrown over his head as he arched his spine pushing his pelvis forward. As this phase repeated Arthur once again began musing and let his muscle memory do all the work. _All of this needs to be perfect. And for that to happen I need a partner that can match my pace and intensity. The reason those other guys didn't last was because they couldn't keep up, which is something I cannot allow._

Oh oh oh oh eh yeah eh

Hm yeah eh hmhmhm yeah eh

Oh oh eh hm yeah eh

Hm yeah eh hmhmhm yeah eh

_Right here I would have a partner enter so we could make this a real push and pull situation. How could I adapt this so that it works for just me without having to change the entire focus of this dance? Please let someone come in for this audition. It's all I really need to get it perfect…from my end at least_

Hey sexy boy, set me free

Don't be so shy, play with me

My dirty boy, can't you see

That you belong next to me

Hey sexy boy, set me free

Don't be so shy, play with me

My dirty boy, can't you see

My dirty boy, can't you see

You are the one I need

Arthur began his half of the choreography by pulling away from an imaginary partner and being spun back into their grasp. He looked over his shoulder into where he assumed his partner's eyes would be and had his left hand resting on his right hip where his partner would have a hold on him as they swayed their hips together. He then stepped behind his imaginary partner to swing himself around the other side of his partner's body and swinging his left leg up onto a waiting forearm at the knee and extending it slowly.

You make me dance

Bring me up

Bring me down

Play it sweet

Make me move like a freak

Mr. Saxobeat

As Arthur kept moving, changing pace, stretching and contracting his body, he thought about all of the partners that he could have performed this particular dance with, who would have fit it the best, why they left when he began to go into over-perfectionist mode while dancing.

_I'll find someone a thousand times better than all of them and show them that I can have someone make it through more than one competition with me. Even if I don't I can be better that all of those wankers all on my own. But having a new partner would really help me stick it to them. But it's not like quality partner just drop out of nowhere _he thought as finished his dance and looked into the mirror.

Over head the ceiling creaked as if unable to continue to support some weight that had no business being up that high in the first place. As Arthur rose from his final position there was a thunderous crash behind him as a shirtless male body came crashing down to Earth causing Arthur to have a small heart attack.

"Ow" a voice said coming from the body now on the studio floor.

Arthur slowly walked over while checking that he could quickly get to an exit or a makeshift weapon. Upon hearing Arthur's approach the man lifted his head and revealed the brightest baby blue eyes Arthur had ever seen.

"Um…hey, I'm here for the audition" said the man with an awkward smile. He pushed himself up off of the floor and the first thing Arthur noticed the rippling back muscle that made his mouth water just watching them flex and roll as he rose. Next were the well-muscled pectoral and washboard abs under golden tanned skin.

Once Arthur managed to tear his eyes away from the expanse of tanned skin and muscles presented to him by the man from above due the stranger's lack of a shirt, his eyes traveled up to meet a bright white smile under a straight nose that supported the center of a thin pair of glasses covering those astoundingly blue eyes and a head of honey blond hair with a renegade cowlick.

_Is this the answer to my prayers?_ Arthur thought while still staring at the stranger.

"Um …dude? You okay? I didn't mean to scare you or anything" the stranger said looking at Arthur with concern.

Arthur blinked rapidly after being called back from his staring and musings. "Huh?" Arthur looked at the face of the stranger with confusion.

"I'm here for the audition" the blond stranger stated once again.

Arthur stared at him wide eyed, then shifted into his trademarked glares and yelled "Why the bloody fuck were you on the ceiling then?!" his accent now even more pronounced.

"Woah dude calm down. Glad to know the rumors about your foul mouth and temper are true" the man laughed.

Arthur rolled his eyes "Who the hell are you anyway? I assume you are a dancer since you have heard rumors about me. Not all of which are true I might add."

The man laughed loudly "Funny way of proving it. Anyway, yes I am a dancer. My name is Alfred F. Jones." He said flashing another bright white smile.

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><p>AN: Hi there. So this is my first fic ever, please be gentle. I'd also like to note that each chapter of this story is based off of a song. This chapter comes to you from the song Mr. Saxobeat. I give all credit for the music to the song writers, producers, and artists. Nothing here belongs to me but this story and the choreography presented. Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

"My name is Alfred F. Jones" Alfred said with a bright white smile.

_And I hope I didn't fuck up my chances at actually doing well at this audition. Arthur Kirkland only dances with the best performers and I just crashed down from the ceiling like a goddamn drunk bird. He's pretty hard on people, judging from his lack of partner after only one competition with him. Hope he doesn't hold this incident against me _He thought, watching Arthur give him a calculating once over.

"So are you going to tell me why you were on the ceiling of my studio, Mr.…Jones was it?" Arthur asked pulling Alfred from his semi panicked thoughts.

"Yeah um… Well I came in a while ago to audition but you weren't here. So I figured I'd get some practicing in before I performed for you. And due to a certain series of events I had to go up to the ceiling, I got stuck, and couldn't come down before you showed up" He said blushing.

"And your shirt?" Arthur asked once again, glancing at the expanse of pectoral muscle in front of him.

Alfred, blushing a deeper shade of red and averting his eyes, replied "That would be part of the series of events I mentioned a minute ago."

"All right then. I'll give you a shot. But only because your entrance was so unconventional" Arthur said with a smirk of his own.

"Really?! Thank You! You won't be disappointed!" He yelled, pulling a black tank top over his head.

"I should hope not" Arthur replied dryly.

Alfred rushed over to hook up his iPod to the speaker, hit play, and sprinted back to the center of the floor as the music began to pulse from the speakers.

The gal dem Schillaci

Sean da Paul

So me give it to

So me give it to

So me give it to

To all girls

Alfred focused in and let his chest pulse to the beat and had the rest of his body soon follow in order to catch the tempo and follow the music.

Five million and forty naughty shorty

Baby girl

All my girls

All my girls

Sean da Paul say

He stepped out just past shoulder width on both sides of his body and dropped into a crouch on the floor.

_Don't think. Feel the music and be free._

He chanted his motto as he did before he officially began any form of performance.

Well woman the way the time cold

I wanna be keepin you warm

I got the right temperature

For shelter you from the storm

He moved his left leg across his body to line up just past his planted right foot and placed his left foot on the floor. He twisted his body so that he was doing a back bend that revealed half of his gorgeously tanned abdominals.

Oh lord,

Girl I got the right tactics to turn you on

And girl I

Wanna be the papa

You can be the mom…oh oh

Using his core muscles he slowly pulled his upper body up from the back bend in slow counts. Upon standing upright he performed a body roll that accentuated the muscles in his thighs and calves, and showed off his firm slightly rounded ass.

As he continued dancing to Sean Paul's voice he felt a burning on his body that was not from the intense way his was making his body move. It was the kind of burning that people felt went they knew they were being stared at by an intensely focus pair of eyes. Alfred chanced a glance at Arthur, hoping to gauge a reaction on whether or not giving his all was even worth the energy he was exerting in this semi seductive display. There were a few things that Alfred expected to see on Arthurs face when he finally got the chance to look. Intrigue, confusion, impress, or dismissal were a few on that particular list. What he wasn't expecting was the expression of appreciation and something that appeared suspiciously like how a starved lion watches a young and vulnerable gazelle, glazed over look in those expressive green eyes.

_Looks like he likes it. If I keep this up he might take a bite and I'll have a shot at this. Time to turn up the heat a little bit more _he thought whipping his head back around, flinging a little sweat and flashing Arthur a flirtatious smirk.

Bumper exposed and gal you

Got your chest out but you

No waster cause gal you impress out

And if you des out a me

You fi test out

Cause I got the remedy

To make you destress out

Alfred shook his hips, pushing them forward toward Arthur in a way that almost put Shakira to shame. He watched as Arthur's eyes looks even more hypnotized as he slowly stripped himself of his shirt, once more revealing those tantalizing abs and tanned chest to his entranced audience.

_Time to finish this out the right way. As the saying goes "Always leave them wanting more"_

With that thought he tossed his shirt up and toward Arthur as he flipped backward into a single handed hand stand.

Well woman the way the time cold

I wanna be keepin you warm

I got the right temperature

For shelter you from the storm

Oh Lord,

Gal I got the right tactics to turn you on

And girl I

Wanna be the papa

You can be the mom…oh oh

He used his bicep to create a pulse throughout his body while unconsciously emphasizing his rippling back muscles. With this pulse he used his wrist and fingers on the floor to turn him slowly toward his audience again. He then pushed off of his planted hand to land on his feet. Catching Arthur's eye he winked and dropped to his knees, sliding right in front of Arthur and pulsing his chest twice as the music faded out.

He stayed on the floor to both catch his breath and let Arthur process everything that he had just witnessed. Wiping off the thick layer of sweat from his forehead so that it wouldn't fall into his eyes, he stood slowly and took a few steps back since when he stood up he was pretty much chest to chest with Arthur. And judging by the unfocused expression on his face, having Alfred that close to him was not helping him to process whatever thoughts were floating around in his pretty blond head.

Noticing that even after taking a few steps back Arthur was still lost within his own mind Alfred cleared his throat loudly jarring Arthur back into reality.

"Dude… Comments? Questions? Evaluations? Hidden Desires?" he said slightly chuckling at Arthur's confused face.

"Huh... Oh right!" Arthur exclaimed after finally bringing himself back from fantasy land. "Temperature was an interesting choice for an audition piece. I'm guessing you know the theme of the competition I'm entering since you chose to perform that particular piece for me?"

"Yeah bro! Wasn't that hard to figure which one you were gonna enter. Especially after seeing your routine" He laughed.

"Right. Since you've had a guess at something after seeing my routine, I think it only fair that I take a guess at something about you after seeing yours" Arthur said tilting his head to the side.

"Guess away Artie!" Alfred yelled continuing to laugh.

Arthur grimaced but continued to speak. " I'm venturing a guess that that little stunt you pulled with your shirt just now was the reason you were on the ceiling, and thereby able to see my routine before it was perfected and then came crashing back down to Earth. Right?" Arthur said, grinning sadistically at the uncomfortable bright red blush creeping up on Alfred's cheeks and raising an eyebrow.

_How the hell does he raise an eyebrow that big?_

"Um… Can we just forget about my wasted bird routine Artie?" Alfred mumbled scratching the back of his head nervously as his blush persisted.

He looked up and saw Arthur smirk.

"I'll make you a deal. You agree to my terms and I'll forget about, as you so eloquently phrased it, 'your wasted bird routine'."

"Name it! Whatever it is I'll do it! Just please forget about it!" Alfred begged dropping to his knees and clasping his hands together in the child's classic begging position.

"Condition 1) you show up on time and ready every day that we have practice. Condition 2) you put the same amount of energy you used in that audition into practice and competitions. Condition 3) Never, under any circumstance what so ever, call me "Artie" again. My name is Arthur and I will be addressed as such" Arthur listed poking Alfred hard in the chest.

"Ow! Stop it dude that hurts…wait… You mean I passed? Fuck Yeah!" He yelled in a celebratory fashion as he thrust a fist in the air.

Arthur chuckled at the childish display. "I like the fact that you're both bold and willing to take a risk when you don't know for sure how your judge will react. I wouldn't make a habit of it, but I respect it enough to give you a shot. I'm looking forward to working with you Mr. Jones." Arthur said offering his hand for a hand shake.

"I prefer Alfred, Al, or Alfie. I'm looking forward to working with you too, dude" Alfred said taking the offered hand.

"All right Alfred. Before you go, there are few things you need to know. Firstly, we practice Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings starting, not arriving, promptly at 6:30 pm and finishing at 9:30 pm. On Saturdays we begin at 1:00 pm and continue until 7:00 pm with a break in between for a light meal. Sundays we practice for two hours at a time of your choice after 11:00am. I will need to be able to contact you to inform you of a change in schedule and I expect a reply if you can or cannot comply with said change. I also expect that if you must arrive after our expected start time you let me know as far ahead of time as possible. Do we have an understanding?" Arthur said seriously, staring into Alfred's eyes as if waiting for him to back down.

Alfred stared back and let out a sigh "Damn. I heard you were strict and had some serious rules but I wasn't expecting you to be a control freak." Arthur looked at him as though he were about to show him what a control freak really was, but Alfred interrupted the beginning of his tirade by saying "Yeah man I got it. I'll follow the rules."

After exchanging contact information Alfred departed the studio and made his way back down the block to his car. Once inside he pulled out his phone, opened his messages, and tapped on an all too familiar name in his contacts. After typing out his message he hit send and put his phone away before starting his car and driving off toward his apartment.

Across the city a quiet blond man stood outside of another studio watching the company inside practice a ballet that he could not place through the fogged up picture window. He shyly brushed his hair behind his ear with the exception of a wayward curl that he could not hold in place no matter how hard he tried. He had been staring at the instructor as he demonstrated with a young woman how to perform a certain move with her partner and let his hands roam a little too high and a little too low on her body to be considered appropriate. As he continued staring as the class was dismissed his phone vibrated two short times in his pocket informing him that he had a text message. He held the phone up to his lavender eyes and read the message sent to him by an all too familiar contact.

**I'm in the competition. Your move Mattie. :-)  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Wooo Chapter 2! Thanks to those that have actually read and want to know where this is going to go. This chapter is brought to you by Temperature by Sean Paul. Once again I give all credit for the songs to the writers, producers, and artists. I own nothing here but this story and the choreography in it. Review and constructive criticism are welcome. Thank you and see you next time!<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm in the competition. Your move Mattie **

The words on his phone screen burned into the back of his mind as he locked it and put it back into his pocket.

Matthew let out a deep sigh. _Okay Al. I don't know why I keep making bets with you, but I'm going in, _he thought at Alfred even though he knew Alfred couldn't hear or see him. He let out another long suffering sigh. _Can't back out now._

With that final thought Matthew steeled himself and walked into the studio. The best way to describe Matthew Williams and his twin brother Alfred F. Jones was the comparison between the twin Greek gods Apollo and Artemis. Alfred, with his bright smiles, honey blond hair, well-muscled body, and sunny disposition always reminded him of Apollo. Matthew would then be forced to think of himself as the male version of Apollo's twin sister Artemis. He had dirty blond hair instead of honey blond. He was well-muscled but they lacked the strong definition and golden tan that his brother's held so well, giving him a pale, delicate appearance by comparison. He didn't have eyes as blue as the afternoon sky on a bright sunny day. He instead possessed pale lavender eyes similar in color to the sky at dusk. Their biggest difference however was in their personalities. Alfred was loud, bright, bold, and hyper whereas Matthew was mellow, quiet, calm and (by his brother's description) boring. _Well none of that matters now. In the art of dance we are equals and now it's time to see who will be the best._

Matthew stepped past the entrance and caught his first glance at the instructor he had been watching, without the obstruction of students and a foggy picture window to distort the beauty of the man.

The instructor of the company that Matthew had been watching had his eyes closed as he lost himself in the music he was dancing to. Shakira's deep alto voice rang out from the speakers and Matthew immediately recognized it as her verse in the song Beautiful Liar.

I trusted him but when I followed you, I saw you together

I did know about you then 'till I saw you with him when yea

I walked in on your love scene, slow dancing

You stole everything, how can you say I did you wrong?

Francis Bonnefoy waved his wavy golden blond hair as he further drowned himself in the voices of Beyoncé and Shakira. His lean muscled arms wrapped around his tight dark blue Underarmor tank top covered torso as he placed his relatively large and talented hands on his hips as they swung left and right. Those sinfully swinging hips sat above long toned legs clothed by semi tight bright red sweat pants that did amazing things for the firm derriere beneath them.

He turned himself toward the entrance of the studio to reveal and incredible well-proportioned handsome face with a well maintained beard that helped further define his already strong jaw line. He finally opened his eyes to check if anyone had come in and in the process revealed that his eyes were a clear ocean blue that hid a small glimmer of mischief.

_I thought I heard someone come in. must have been my imagination. Oh well. Shakira take me away_ he thought, unable to see Matthew slowly approaching directly in front of him.

A whispery voice, almost like a spirit on the wind, struck his ear drum and nearly made him hit the ceiling with how hard he jumped "Um excuse me…" Matthew mumbled. He shyly looked at the floor, feeling slightly disappointed that Francis hadn't seen him approach when he was staring right at him.

"Sacre Bleu! How long have you been here?! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Francis yelled in both fear and frustration. If there was one thing he hated, it was being scared shitless, especially in the middle of choreographing.

"I've… um I've been here since around the second verse" Matthew said, blushing nervously.

After taking a moment to regain his composure Francis took a few moments to look Matthew over.

_Hmm. Shy, blushing an adorable pink, somewhat curly blond hair. Nice thin frame, he seems almost delicate. But I can still see muscles. _His eyes traveled down toward Matthew's legs. _Long, hopefully flexible legs, narrow hips and…well that is quite the cute derriere._ Francis smiled appreciatively and decided to turn on the charm.

"Désole mon cher, I really do hate being interrupted but that was no reason for me to be rude to you. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Francis Bonnefoy, and who might you be, my dear?" he said offering his hand.

"I'm… Matthew Williams" Matthew replied, hesitantly taking the offered hand

"Enchante" he whispered kissing the hand and giving Matthew a wink. He internally chuckled at how Matthew's face managed to grow three shades darker.

_Oh he is going to be very entertaining…at least for a little while._

"So what can I do for you Matthew?" Francis took a few steps into Matthew's personal space, causing Matthew to become even more nervous.

"I'm um… I heard that you were…um looking for a partner."

_He's just darling!_

"I don't remember advertising my preferences anywhere. But that doesn't mean I won't think about giving you a try mon cher." Francis whispered, his lips brushed against the shell of Matthew's ear causing him to shiver and jump away.

"I…I don't mean… I'm not…I-I …I" Matthew grew more and more flustered much to the amusement of Francis. "I don't mean to say that it's bad that you're… not that I'm assuming…"

"Calm down Matthew. I was just teasing you" he said with a smile that showed that he was only partially joking.

_He really is too cute for his own good_

"Take a deep breath and try again" Francis continued and moved to stand behind Matthew to get another look at that cute little butt.

Matthew took a deep breath completely unaware of the increasingly impure thoughts going through Francis' mind and the large hand inching their way eagerly toward his backside.

"I came to audition to be your new dance partner. I know you normally go out and scout your own partners or you pick from members of your company, but I really want to try because I know you wouldn't notice if I didn't do this" Matthew rattled off quickly.

"Hmm, All right let's see what you can do. Can you tell me about the piece you'll be performing for me?" he said sitting down with his back against the wall of mirrors continuing to stare at Matthew.

"Um… I kind of want it to be a surprise. I like to have my audience think one thing and have them be shocked by what they see. It's a bad habit I picked up from my brother. I'm sorry if you don't like it."

_It's so cute how he rambles when he's nervous_

Matthew walked to set up his music and moved back to center floor waiting for his song to start.

_I bet it's something soft and bubbly. He looks like he would pick that kind of song. Even so, I could make him work with-_

Francis' thoughts through the beginning of the song Matthew had chosen to dance to; were interrupted by one of the many songs he never expected the shy, quiet, innocent looking blond to dance to.

She moves her body like a cyclone

And she makes me wanna so it all night long

Going hard when they turn the spotlights on

Because she moves her body like a cyclone

Just like a cyclone

Just as Francis was when Matthew walked into his studio, he closed his eyes and began his process of losing himself in his music. He swiveled his left ankle and let that swiveling motion travel up his tight shorts covered thigh, then to his hips and his pert little derriere, up his torso to his head. When he circled his head back around and opened his eyes, he was no longer the same Matthew that first walked into the studio. His pale lavender eyes seemed to harden and darken with promises that something insane was going to happen.

_This is my zone. Here I am the best and the strongest. No one can judge what I do. No one can handle me. No one can stop me._

He chanted his mantra over and over like a broken record in his mind as he let himself go further into the world his dancing and music provided for him.

I look at that double on the back of that bumpa

She ain't even playin when she shaken that rumpa

And oh you ain't know

She gets lower than a muffla

Even with her girlfriends

Show stoppin with a hustla

He dropped to one knee and popped his but twice before spinning on his planted knee and using the momentum to land in a semi push up position. He pushed himself up into a standing position and in an almost dangerous feline-esque motion, created a wave like effect that travelled from his torso down to his feet.

As the music continued he let himself drown further into the sounds and the rhythms of the song. Though his eyes were open he either could not see Francis' combination of shock, arousal, approval, and mischievous expression across his face or chose not to. He felt a burn run through his body creating a pleasant warmth starting from his rapidly moving hips and (by extension) ass and extending to the tips of his fingers that were out stretched over his head as he continued dancing.

_Eat your heart out Francis. Everyone knows your reputation, so I know you're enjoying everything I'm doing. Even though you're not touching me I can feel your eyes gliding over my body in the same way I know your extremely talented hands have the desire to. I know how much you want to rip these shorts off, get me back in that half kneeling position underneath you. But if you think this'll be a free ride, think again. This is going to be a give and take situation. You give me this position and I might just let you have a little taste._

It's a wrap

When she them boys off a typhoon

It's a wrap

Better get that fatty like a boss tycoon

It's a wrap

Now hold it steady 'cause she make a monsoon

It's a wrap

.Now you can Google download to iTunes

Matthew slid a half step closer to Francis before turning to the side doing a half kick with his right foot and placing it on the floor while simultaneously quickly bending backward to touch the floor with his left hand. He pulled himself back up and in a motion almost as sensuous as a snake creeping up on its prey, stepped another half step closer to Francis. He pulled his right arm across his torso and his left hand clamped onto his right wrist. He raised the connected appendages over his head and disconnected them as he did another body roll that would make most female dancers jealous. He took another step toward Francis, now just barely out of arms reach, teasing Francis with what he wanted to grasp but couldn't. He gave Francis a wink and small smirk before, with all the skill and grace of a gymnast, performed a backward walkover that put him closer to the center of the floor once more.

He let a small portion of his absolute concentration slip so that he could take a peek at his clearly captured audience. Francis was completely and utterly entranced by everything that Matthew was doing. His cheeks were a faint red, his mouth was slightly agape to let his tongue run over his lips, and his eyes… his eyes were glazed over with his desire to tie Matthew's wrists and ankles together, cover him in chocolate, lick it off slowly, and finally suck out his warm, sweet cream filling.

_Perfect. This position is mine. Now hang on tight Francis. There's still a little more left to this performance. _He smirked to himself as he continued to move in a highly sensual manner._ If you're a good boy, you might just get a taste. No promises though._ He mentally chuckled to himself at the potential visual of Francis being denied his desire for an extended period of time.

Shawty got looks

Shawty got class

Shawty got hips

Shawty got ass

When she hit the stage

She drop it down low like

Rew rew rew rew rew rew rew rew

Ah this is crazy

It's amazing

She must be the weather lady

She lookin like

Rew rew rew rew rew rew rew rew

Matthew executed a series of poses in tempo with the voice of T- Pain. In his mind he pictured Francis as a photographer that kept demanding to be given more and Matthew never liked being one to disappoint. He hit four different poses, one for each thing "Shawty got". He then performed them in rapid succession twice before winding his hips slowly. He stood up straight, placing both of his hands on the sides of his head and circled his head around. He then dropped one to go over his heart and raised his other over hand to point upward. He finished by slowly sliding down into perfect split and giving Francis the come hither bedroom eyes. He held his position until the music faded out slowly and left a sweaty Matthew and a stunned Francis surrounded by a ringing silence.

_I haven't seen a split that perfect since… No! I said I was done with him when I left. It's time for someone new._ Francis thought as he slowly got off the floor as Matthew did the same.

His thoughts were the only thing keeping him in enough control to not rush over to an eagerly awaiting review Matthew, dragging him to the back storage room, and showing him exactly what that little performance had done to him.

"That was quite the performance, mon cher."

Matthew looked up into those mischievous blue eyes and blushed a deep rose red. "Thank you. I hope you didn't find it offensive in any way. If you did I'm so sorry. I'll leave if you didn't like it. I'm sorry for wasting your time. I didn't mean-"he rambled looking at the floor in distress.

"Matthew! Calm down. You didn't waste my time" Francis said, slinking up to Matthew and placing a finger under his jaw to make him to force him to look up. "It was quite the opposite actually. Your performance gave me a few interesting ideas of things I can do with you, mon petit danseur. If you want we can go to the back room and work on a few of them. Ohonhonhon. ~"

"I… um…I…I-" Matthew stammered as Francis leaned his face down closer causing Matthew to blush an even deeper shade of red.

"Ohonhonhon~ I'm not hearing a no mon cher. Shall I take that as you would like to know exactly what I want to do with that deliciously flexible body? How I want to stretch your beautiful cream colored legs into positions you didn't know you could put them in. Or how I can make your back bow so much that-"

"Francis…" Matthew whispered nervously, feeling Francis slide his other hand down to a less than respectable place.

"Oui Matthew?" Francis whispered back seductively planting his hand firmly on Matthew's backside as he had wanted to from the moment he saw him. Francis squeezed his butt gently and moved himself even closer so that they were chest to chest and pelvis to pelvis.

Matthew squeaked and jumped backward in a futile attempt at escape. "Um I'd like to know if I got the position if you don't mind. I would also appreciate if you would kindly remove your hand from my ass."

"Well of course I want you as my partner after that little display. I'd be crazy not to. You know, you're a completely different person when you're dancing. Never the less I look forward to getting to know you both in a more…intimate way." He brushed his lips against the shell of Matthew's ear before pulling away with a wink and refusing to let go of Matthew's butt.

"Thank you." Matthew gasped as Francis gave his butt another squeeze.

_I'm never going to get used to that. No matter how long I dance with him._

After exchanging contact information and a very handsy promise that a call would be coming through for him later that night. Matthew finally managed to escape the adventurous and perverted clutches of Francis. He made his way back to his car and let out an exhausted sigh and pulled out his phone to text his brother. He locked his phone and threw it down on the seat before taking off down the street where hopefully Francis' hands couldn't reach him…at least for a little while.

Alfred woke up violently from his nap on the couch. The television was running the credits for a movie that his couldn't identify in his semi-conscious state. The vibrations and pinging of his phone informed him that he had a text message. Upon checking it he arose from his couch and made his way to the kitchen.

**Al…I'll be there in 20. Make me some pancakes and break out the maple syrup. Mattie's had a long afternoon.**

* * *

><p>AN: Hi again! So chapter three. I must say this one was a struggle to write. Francis kept fighting for control, but I won. Anyway, this chapter is brought to you by two songs this time around. Firstly Beautiful Liar by Beyoncé and Shakira, and secondly Cyclone by Baby Bash featuring T-Pain. As always I give all credit for the song to the writers, artists and producers. I own nothing but the ranting and ravings of this story and the choreography there in. Please feel free to leave reviews; you have no idea how encouraging they can be. See you next time!


	4. Chapter 4

**Al…I'll be over in 20. Make me some pancakes and break out the maple syrup. Mattie's had a long afternoon.**

Alfred rolled off of the couch with a loud groan and had a prompt and intimate reunion with the floor.

"Damn it floor! We've talked about this! We'll have out reunions on my terms, not when you want it!"

He pushed himself off of the floor that clearly had demanded his attention while he slept and was upset about being ignored. He glared down at the offending carpet that had forced him into the unwanted meeting, grabbed his phone and made his way to the kitchen. He ran over the list of ingredients in his mind, making sure that he had everything that he needed to fulfill his brother's request.

"Flour, backing powder, salt, sugar, milk, eggs, aaaaaand butter. Looks like everything's here" he glanced over into the open cabinet and saw something that made his already bright blue eyes light up." Sweet! I forgot I had chocolate chips! Now mission 'Comfort food for Mattie' is a go! Yeah!" he shouted and scampered around his kitchen gathering cooking utensils.

Despite their polar opposite natures, the twins were the best of friends and had traditions that they'd kept since they were kids. One of which was the making of a favorite comfort food when one of them had a particularly stressful day. For Matthew it was pancakes with ten shit tons of maple syrup and for Alfred it was cheeseburgers with a copious amount of patties, bacon, and three different types of cheese. They knew that those weren't the best food choices for what they chose to do with their lives, but they had a follow- up tradition of going to the gym together to work off the excess calories.

Al chuckled to himself thinking back on a few of the reasons for their comfort-food-and-work-out brother bonding days as he mixed the pancake batter for both of them. One bowl with chocolate chips mix into the batter and the other with plain batter and a slight touch of cinnamon. As Al spread the first two pancakes on the pre-prepped griddle and let them start cooking, he hooked his phone up to the speakers that he kept in the kitchen in order to make the process of cooking go by faster and be less suckish. He set his music on his cooking playlist and turned the volume up to the max.

Two songs and seven pancakes later, Al's favorite song of the month, Party In Your Bedroom, exploded from the speakers. Al started swinging his hips and twisting his torso in time with the music, raising the hand that wasn't currently occupied by a spatula. He balled his raised hand up into a fist and began pumping it in the air. He started singing along with the lead singer giving his empty apartment a concert it would never forget… if it had the ability to think and remember anything.

There's a party in your bedroom

All night long

There's a lot of talk about you

'Cause there's a party in your bedroom

Pretty girl

It's a show

Let it go when you're alone

His baritone voice rang through his apartment in perfect harmony with the lead singer. Just like when he danced, his voice expressed all the joy, freedom, and sunshine that people often told him that he was the physical embodiment of. After he flipped yet another pair of pancakes, he danced his way over to his phone to put the song on loop. He was going to play this song until he either got sick of it or passed out, whichever came first. He spun his way back over to the stove to remove the cooking pancakes and start another set. He continued singing and swinging his hips to his current jam, completely unaware that he would soon have an audience for his private concert and cooking show.

* * *

><p>Matthew drove about fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit to get to his brother's place. Not that he was really paying any attention to how fast he was going. His thoughts were still occupied by his meeting with the infamous Francis Bonnefoy a few minutes before.<p>

_At least I know all the rumors about him not being able to keep his hands to himself are absolutely, unquestionably, and completely true. I might have to keep a better eye on my water bottle and his hands if I want to make it out of his studio unmolested. Though, judging by what happened today, molestation by those hands may be inevitable. But just because it's more than likely going to happen anyway, doesn't mean that I have to bend over and make it easy for him. _Matthew sighed for the umpteenth time since he had gotten up that morning. _I hope Al pulled out the good syrup. I feel like I need it._

He pulled up in from of his brother's building and parked behind the familiar Toyota Corolla with the American flag air freshener and bald eagle bobble head on the dash board. He shook his head looking at the windshield paraphernalia that screamed 'America!' and thought _Typical Alfred. Got dad's American patriotism and mom's energy._

He got out of his car and sped walked to the front door of the building, pulling out his key along the way. Upon entering the door he proceeded to walk up the five flights of stairs that would place him but a mere hallway away from his brother and an enormous stack of flapjacks. Once he reached the desired floor he walked down to the end of the hallway and around the corner that put him in front of the apartment door.

_Mmmm I can taste those pancakes now. Hope Al mad enough for me to take home too. His pancakes are the best, after mom's of course._

Matthew stuck his key in the lock and turned it to let himself into his brother's domain and was immediately met with the two things he associated with quick comfort, the smell of pancakes and the singing voice of his beloved twin. He followed both the sound of the music and the smell of his favorite food further into the apartment and found himself standing in the doorway of the kitchen. He stopped and watched with an amused expression as Alfred danced and flipped pancakes, so immersed in his singing and private party that he seemed to not notice the presence of the person he was making all of these pancakes for. Matthew, not dropping his amused smirk, stalked up behind his brother and prepared for his part in their brotherly bonding tradition.

* * *

><p>Alfred felt an extremely familiar pair of hands creep around his waist and a set of hips swinging in time with his own. On his right shoulder he felt the pressure of a chin resting on his collar bone and from the corner of his eye he saw a flash of dirty blond hair. He smiled a little more as the song began once again and heard his brother chuckle in his ear as they continued dancing together. Matthew then began their usual game.<p>

"There's a party in your bedroom? Was I invited?"

Alfred let out a chuckle of his own and whispered back "Of course you are Mattie" as he continued flipping pancakes.

Matthew leaned in closer to Alfred and adopted a sensual tone that reminded him vaguely of Francis as he whispered "Is it going to be sweaty?"

"Isn't it always?" Alfred mumbled back, struggling to stay in character.

Matthew slid his hand down Alfred's waist the rest on his hips and pulled him closer to his chest. "I promise I'll be gentle."

"I know you will. Otherwise you wouldn't be allowed back. And neither of us wants that."

Matthew smirked again and pulled back slightly. "Is everything ready for it?"

Al turned his head toward his brother, noting that his eyes were filled with unconcealed mischief that Al immediately mirrored. "You know it."

Matthew let out a chuckle as he released his brother's hips. "In that case…" He walked out of the kitchen and into a different room, out of sight of his brother.

Alfred quickly finished the last of the pancakes; put the dirty dishes in the sink and the completed pancakes on a plate that he placed in the oven in order to keep them warm. He looked over his shoulder before following the same path Matthew had taken and wound up at his bedroom entryway.

He peered around the room, but Matthew was nowhere to be seen. What was in his sights, however, was the pile of pillows he had left on his bed that appeared to be missing a pillow. Keeping watch all over his surroundings Alfred rushed over to his bed to grab another pillow. As he turned around to begin the hunt for Matthew, pillow in hand, he was unceremoniously whacked in the face by his missing pillow wielded by a maniacally cackling Matthew.

"Two points to Mattie!" Matthew yelled running at full speed out of the room.

After recovering from the pillow to the face Alfred yelled "You're going down little brother!" as he tore out of the room, attempting to keep an eye out for a flash of blond or a flying pillow. "Where did you go?" he mumbled keeping his pillow up as a guard. He was promptly smacked from behind by the very pillow he had been trying to keep an eye out for.

"Two more points for Mattie! You're getting slow big brother! Those two minutes catching up to you already?" Matthew taunted, laughing so loudly that it almost drowned out the music that was continuing to play from the kitchen. In the midst of his taunting Matthew failed to notice the pillow headed right for him until it smacked him on the top of the head.

"You tell me! Three points for the conquering hero!" Alfred whooped and made a mad dash for his living room with Matthew hot on his heels.

"We'll just see about that!" Matthew yelled as the pillow fight to end all pillow fights continued to the tune of Party In Your Bedroom.

* * *

><p>Forty-five minutes and two exploded pillows later, both Matthew and Alfred lie panting and exhausted in a pile of feathers and pillow stuffing.<p>

Matthew turning his head toward his brother and smiled. "Draw?"

"Deal dude." Alfred panted back getting off of the floor . "Come on and get these pancakes. I made plenty."

"Sir yes sir." Matthew chuckled getting off of the feather covered carpet and following Alfred back into the kitchen. He sat down at the table in his usual seat and a plate of five pancakes was place in from of him along with a gallon jug of maple syrup from the stash that he kept at Alfred's place. "Mmmmm. Homemade pancakes. The best thing to happen to mankind since the ability to tap trees for sap to make syrup" he said proceeding to drown his stack in about seventy percent of the jug from his stash.

Alfred turned off his music and sat down with his own stack of pancakes. "Glad you're happy, Mattie. Now, tell me how your audition went. I'm just dying to know" he said before stuffing his own face with chocolate chip pancakes smothered in chocolate sauce and whipped cream.

Matthew stared Alfred in the face with the absolute blankest expression he could manage while wondering how his brother was able it get whipped cream on his nose after just one bite of pancakes. "Story for a story Al" he said wiping off the cream with his finger and licking it. "How was your audition?"

Alfred wiped his hand across his nose and mumbled "Fair enough" and swallowed his mouthful. "I managed to get stuck on the ceiling at the dudes studio and had a crash landing as an entrance that nearly gave the guy a heart attack. Did my thing, got the position along with a shit ton of rules that I have to follow if I want to keep that position. I swear that dude is such a hard ass that I'm pretty sure I have to ask permission to breathe in his studio whenever we really get started with rehearsals. But putting up with all of those rules will be worth it when I finally get to see him up close, dancing with those bright forest green eyes" Alfred had unknowingly started to drift into a dream like tone when he got around to describing Arthur's determined eyes as he danced alone earlier that day.

Matthew heard the dreamlike tone, that was usually reserved for discussions about burgers, dance, and the latest Disney and Pixar movies, to his brother's voice and looked at him in concern before deciding it was time to tease him. "Careful there bro, keep talking like that and someone might think you're falling for him" he chuckled before taking another syrup soaked bite of pancakes.

"All right funny guy. I spilled my embarrassing tale of victory. Your turn. Tell me the juicy details."

Matthew sighed "Fine, but remember, you asked for this. I got in. My new partner is going to take some getting used to. He's kind of… for lack of a more adequate term, handsy and-"

"Do I need to go break some hands Mattie? Just say the word and I'll make him eat his own perverted fingers one by one as I slowly snap his legs and-"

"Al! No, thank you. As much as I adore your brotherly displays of affection through violence inflicted on others, I would appreciate if you didn't break my partner before I've had a chance to see what we can do together" Matthew said in a quick attempt at calming down his raging brother.

"Fine" Alfred pouted. "But if I catch his hands all over you, just know, he will lose several limbs before I beat him with them." he said, staring Matthew dead in the eye to emphasize his seriousness.

"Noted. Well I'm supposed to be expecting a call from him later to get more details on what he wants to do and an official schedule that will work for both of us."

"Lucky. I wish I could dictate my own schedule. Arthur's schedule for me is so strict that I'm sure that I'll never actually see the light of day on Saturdays before I have to go back in on Sundays for another marathon rehearsal."

"If you want Francis to get friendly with your back side, be my guest. I'm sure he enjoys the challenge of pinning someone down that wants to cause him bodily harm. He looks like he's had some serious practice with rope and handcuffs that even you wouldn't be able to escape from. He might just keep you that way until you accept that you'll never be free of him."

Matthew's description of Francis' character was rewarded with an extremely concerned look from Alfred and the comment" You're not making me feel any better about you spending so much time alone with him. Are you sure you don't want me to have a discussion with him about boundaries and what happens to people who don't respect them? I'll even make it somewhere that no one will hear his screams. Or his bones snap."

"Al I'll be fine. As long as I specifically outline my boundaries I'm certain he'll respect them unless he wants to have the police give him a much harder lesson. Plus I doubt he would go too far without my consent."

"Just be sure to inform that if he were to go too far, you have a brother with a thousand methods for ending his life, a thousand ways to dispose of a body, a damn good lawyer, and an airtight alibi if he fucks around with my baby brother."

"You'll have to inform me of some of those ways of hiding a body later because honestly I didn't even think you could count to a thousand. Now enough of this. Ready to hit they gym for the last time before we sign ourselves over to our partners?"

"Don't sass me young man." Alfred mumbled as he put their empty plates into the sink on top of the batter and chocolate covered bowl that started their session of brotherly bonding time. "Race ya downstairs!" he said taking a head starts.

Matthew rolled his eyes and took off after him. _Same old Alfred._

* * *

><p>AN: Hey everyone. So this is the end of this day, I promise. I just needed to get all of my relationships and their standings in order. To those that are concerned about the romance, never fear, it will get here soon enough. This chapter is brought to you by the song Party In Your Bedroom by Cash Cash, along with fond memories of times spent with my own siblings. As always I give all credit for the song to the writers, producers, and artists. I own nothing hear but this story and the choreography within. Reviews are, as always, welcome. They really help break down the walls in my head so that I can continue to bring you this story. See you next time and Happy Holidays!


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks of intensive practice with Alfred and everything is moving absolutely splendidly. Alfred has the gist of the routine has been learned for his part and all that remains is for it to be learned and perfected with himself added into the equation…

Is what Arthur would like to say, if the bloody American git weren't so fucking frustrating. He'd given Alfred a few, very reasonable, conditions and rules to follow if he wanted to work with him. So far damn near every rule and condition had been broken at least twice. Thrice in the case of showing up on time and ready for rehearsals. Arthur had even been so kind as to give him a fifteen minute grace period to either show up or inform him that he was going to be later than expected, because he knew that sometimes things just happen that are beyond an individual's control. But the fact that the time was approaching 7:15pm when their rehearsals started at 6:30pm was far past anything that could be considered reasonable. This event coupled with the knowledge that a cheerful yell of "ARTIE!" and a half arsed excuse for his tardiness would signal his missing partner's arrival prompted his latest bout of rage choreographing.

The violent tones and heavy guitar and drum beats of Riot by Three Days Grace erupted from the speakers in the corners of his studio. The smell of sweat and anger filed the room and Arthur's lungs, fueling his rage against Alfred.

If you feel so empty

So used up so let down

If you feel so angry

So ripped off, so stepped on

You're not the only one

Refusing to back down

You're not the only one

So get up

The music pulsed and rushed through Arthur's body as he jumped hard off of the marely and side kicked the air. He landed on the floor with a heavy thump and executed a flat footed half turn. He leaned to the side, placing his left hand on the smooth and slightly scuffed gray surface, kicking his left leg into the air to stretch over his leaning body. Using the airborne leg, he twisted his himself so that he could perform a controlled fall and land in a pose that greatly reflected his irritation with stupid, unreliable, gorgeous partners and their inability to keep to their commitments.

"I really should have just done this stupid competition on my own. Then I would not be stuck dealing with fucking unreliable bloody Americans."

"ARTIE! You rang?" Alfred yelled from the doorway, starling Arthur and causing him to smack the back of his head against the floor.

"Damn it! Shit! Fuck! Son of a BITCH!" Arthur exclaimed in pain, clutching the throbbing cranium and proceeded to give Alfred his fiercest glare as the American laughed boisterously.

"Ah! It's the return of potty mouth Arthur! I was wondering where he'd gone." Alfred said flashing his million dollar smile.

"Where in the name of fuck have you been? Our practice time is at 6:30. It is now 7:30, which means you are an hour late. I hope you have a damn good excuse for being this late and not informing me, because if you don't you can expect the lecture of a life time and two hours tacked onto our rehearsal on Sunday!" Arthur stared at Alfred, who still had not dropped that bright, beautiful smile, and had to force his overlarge eyebrow not to twitch in irritation.

"Calm down, grumpy pants. I had something I needed to take care of before I got here."

"And what was so important that you, once again, failed to inform me that you were going to be late?"

"It's not really any of your business what I do when I'm not in this studio." Alfred said masking his own irritation at being questioned. He stripped off his jacket, unveiling those golden tanned biceps and blood red tank top covered pectorals and abs that never failed to distract Arthur from his angry lecturing. "Last I checked you weren't my mother. You aren't my father. You literally have no major say in what I do when I'm not here. So, now that that's out of the way, let's get this party started." Alfred stretched himself out in preparation for one hell of a rehearsal. He paused to listen to the music Arthur had been dancing to before he was so rudely interrupted and made a perplexed face.

Let's start a riot, a riot

Let's start a riot

Let's start a riot, a riot

Let's start a riot.

"Interesting choice in music Artie. But it doesn't really fit you. I'd pictured something a little more like an adorable angry kitten for you" he smirked.

Arthur stalked over to Alfred with the sweetest smile in his arsenal of expressions. When he was standing face to face with him, he grabbed a fistful of that sinfully fitted red tank top, pulling Alfred even closer as he whispered dangerously "When I stick my foot so far and hard up your arsehole that it knocks that stupid little cowlick right off of your pretty blond head, will I still be an 'adorable angry kitten'?"

"If the thought of that wasn't so frightening, it would be a huge turn on" Alfred whispered back before being shoved onto the ground by a brightly blushing Arthur.

"If I wanted to know about your sexual proclivities I would have asked. Now hurry up and finish your prep. We're already extremely behind schedule and I'd like to get as much done as possible so that I know what will need work for our extra two hours of rehearsal on Sunday."

Arthur turned his back on the stupidly grinning Alfred and changed the song on his iPod from Riot to Mr. Saxobeat in order to get into the appropriate mind set for working.

You make me dance

Bring me up

Bring me down

Plays it sweet

Makes me move like a freak

Mr. Saxobeat

_I thought Alfred was going to be the answer to all of my partner related problems. He has everything I was looking for: tall, muscular, generally esthetically pleasing, energetic, and dedicated to the art of dance. It's just his personality that drives me insane…well that and his infuriating inability to follow simple rules._

Arthur continued his musing as his body unconsciously marked its way through the solo portion of his pre-choreographed routine. He danced without really thinking about what he was doing or actually feeling the music until he felt the unwelcome presence of an arm wrapping securely around his chest and a hand resting on his hip.

_When the hell did he get over here? And how the hell did he move so quietly? Note to self: put a bell on him when he's not looking._

Arthur tried to remove himself from the firm grasp around his body, but his attempt at escape only made Alfred more determined to hold onto him. Alfred's hips swayed and he started grinding against Arthur, coaxing him to join in. Arthur's hips reluctantly began to move, whether his mind wanted them to or not.

_All right Arthur, calm down and think. At some point he is going to have to loosen his grip. When he does, find your escape route. Until then follow his lead._

Adhering to the advice of his inner voice, Arthur let himself relax and follow Alfred's lead. He began to wind his hips in time with his partner while one of his hands reached over to cover the hand resting on his hip and the other snaked up to sit on the back of Alfred's neck. Although Arthur was letting Alfred have control there was still a part of him, the control freak part, that was not willing to relinquish the entirety of himself to the American's whims. That part of him decided to slow down he pace of their joined movements, effectively creating a more intimate and sensual atmosphere around them. An atmosphere that only intensified when Arthur looked up into Alfred's eyes and saw a fiery passion that scalded him down to his very core.

_Woah! Stop! Freeze! Abort mission! I repeat Abort mission! Get out of there Arthur!_ His inner voice shrieked in panic as Alfred began to lean in toward his face, much too close for comfort.

Following the direction of his panicking intuition that had never lead him astray, he pushed his rear end into Alfred's pelvis and leaning his torso forward, knocking Alfred off balance. When the collapsing Alfred extended his legs to steady himself once again Arthur seized his chance and elongated his body and slid between Alfred's legs to stand behind him. While Alfred was still distracted Arthur kicked him hard in the butt causing Alfred to fall forward and almost have another lip locking session with the studio floor.

_NO! Not again!_ Alfred's mind screamed

He tucked his body into a ball and caught himself in a front roll that gave him enough momentum to get back to his feet. He reached back and grabbed Arthur's wrist, swinging him to his right side.

Hey sexy boy, set me free

Don't be so shy, play with me

My dirty boy, can't you see

That you belong next to me

Hey sexy boy, set me free

Don't be so shy, play with me

My dirty boy, can't you see

You are the one I need

Arthur's body, so used to following his pre-set routine, began moving on its own once again. He grasped Alfred's wrist as he swung himself out to the full extent of both of their arms before spinning back into his blue eyed partner's waiting arms. He rolled his hips in time with Alfred's twice, and then stepped around his body; winding half way around him like Alfred was a sexy, strong stripper pole. He followed his laid out choreography almost as naturally as a leaf floating on the wind.

_Why is this happening? I'm supposed to be the one in control here! Why the hell does this man have the ability to make me lose myself like this?! It's been so long since I've felt like this though. The way we're moving, so in sync with each other, almost reminds me of…no, he's gone and I'm never going to think of him again. I need to stop this._

Throughout his mental conversation/ argument with himself Arthur's body continued to follow his choreography.

You make me dance

Bring me up

Bring me down

Play it sweet

Makes me move like a freak

Mr. Saxobeat

As the music reach its conclusion, Arthur's traitor of a body decided that instead of landing in the final position that he intended on using for the end of this particular piece, it wanted to once again be pressed flesh to flesh against Alfred with his leg wrapped tightly around his waist. By the time his mind grew privy to what was happening, he was nose to nose with Alfred. If this were a normal situation he wouldn't have been as concerned. But as terrified and confused forest green eyes met blazing baby blues, all feelings of normality made a quick and sneaky exit through the front door.

"Hey there." Cool, peppermint scented breath brushed across his lips, soft as a lovers kiss, drawing Arthur in. Luckily for Arthur, his mind was now back in full control and was set on absolute fucking panic mode.

"Unhand me!" Arthur's usually carefully covered British accent made a sudden appearance, a testament to how nervous he was after the spark he felt between them mere seconds beforehand. He snatched himself out of Alfred's grasp while simultaneously attempting to unwind his leg from his waist. The end result was Arthur landing on his butt and staring up at a partner that was trying his hardest to look sympathetic, and failing miserably, as an amused smirk cracked his mask of concern.

"You okay dude?" a chuckle crept into his voice against his will as he offered a hand to help Arthur stand. A hand that was harshly swatted away. "What the hell bro? All I'm trying to do is help!"

"Out." Arthur mumbled getting to his feet.

"What?"

"Get. Out." Arthur said in a voice that barely concealed the wide range of emotions beating around in his chest. He began shoving Alfred toward the exit, desperate to be alone to sort through everything that had just happened.

"Fine, I'll leave. But can I at least get my jacket?" He asked as he was forced out on to the sidewalk. Arthur disappeared briefly and reappeared throwing the jacket in Alfred's face. Without pausing to see if the disgruntled young man had everything that he entered the studio with, Arthur slammed and locked the door before retreating into an interior room in his studio to sit in a corner and think about what he had just done.

_What the royal fuck did I just do? I just pushed out my chance at victory and I have no idea if he'll ever come back. Especially after how I just treated him._

Arthur sat with his head in his hands lamenting the choices he's made that evening. Suddenly, a chiming sound rang through the room breaking the oppressive silence. After a quick scan of the area he spotted the source of the chiming, a cellphone left on the floor. Arthur picked it up, determined to silence the device so that he could continue his brooding. What met his eye when he turned the phone so he could shut it off was a text message.

**Thank you so much for picking your grandmother up from the airport. She was so excited to see her little Alfie after so long. Make sure you and Mattie come by so she can take tons of pictures for her friends back home to brag about her big handsome grandsons.**

**Love Mom**

_He could have just said something. I wouldn't have yelled at him about his tardiness if I knew he had a commitment to keep with his family._

Arthur walked back to the door to see if Alfred was still there looking for his phone. After a few minutes of waiting he determined that Alfred may not have realized that his phone was missing yet. But once he did, hopefully he would return to pick it up so that Arthur could apologize for his horrendous behavior.

* * *

><p>The next day, Alfred stood outside of the studio to retrieve his phone. He realized it was missing when he was about half way home the night before, but he didn't want to return to the studio for fear of saying or doing something that he would later regret. When he set foot inside the dance hall he expected to be greeted by the irritated voice of Arthur as he forced himself to work harder on some project that was already perfected by most master dancer's standards. What he did not anticipate, however, was Arthur's lightly accented voice sounding in a gentle and patient tone and the laughter of several young children.<p>

"Peter, Wendy, I would love to know what it is you find so funny."

"It's not you we're laughing at Arthur," a young male voice replied.

"Yeah. Marcello keeps making faces behind you" a young female voice finished.

As Alfred stood in the doorway of the central room, the scene before him caused his face to break into a soft smile. Arthur stood in the center of a small group of four children, three boys and a lone girl. One of the boys had pale blond hair that almost seem gray and a set of eye brows that could give Arthur's a run for their money. The second had long pale blond hair that was a little closer to silver and was tied back in two braided pigtails; he was also the only one wearing puffy blue shorts over his tiny thin legs. The final boy had patchy clothes that looked handmade and dark brown hair that stuck out on the sides in a style that reminded him vaguely of Angelica Pickles from Rugrats. The lone girl in the mix had light brunette hair in a side ponytail, bound by a shiny red ribbon; over her shoulders she wore a powder puff pink sweater to cover her arms. Arthur standing in the center of them looking every bit the gentle teacher made the scene adorable. But what made it hilarious was the brownish red haired teenager hanging upside down from the ceiling with a wide smile and a wink.

Arthur shaking his head and trying his very hardest not to laugh asked "Marcello… how exactly did you get up there?"

The brownish red haired teenager, Marcello Arthur had called him, replied with a slight Italian accent "Oh well you know… That one way."

Arthur turned his attention to the brown haired Angelica boy, "Nicolae, did you see how he got up there?" The only response he got was Nicolae averting his eyes and emitting a short giggle.

"All right then, Franz you're my only hope. Can you shed some light on the mystery of Marcello's acrobatic display?" He directed his gaze to the young boy with the pale blond braided pigtails.

"It… it was ART! As an artist I cannot reveal the technique of a fellow artist!" Franz exclaimed with a somewhat crazed look in his eye.

Arthur face palmed and mumbled "Why did I expect anything different?" He dropped his hand but not his smile and spoke up so that all of his students could hear him "Fine, I guess I don't really need to know. Marcello will please come down so that we may go over everything we've learned today?"

Marcello flipped himself upright and jumped own onto Earth with the rest of the human population "No problem."

"One day I will figure out how you keep getting up there every week."

"Good luck with that Arthur. I never use the same method twice."

_I guess even Artie has his playful side. _Alfred thought watching the as the group ran through what seemed to be the beginnings of a simple jazz piece.

"Okay my dears, that's all for today. Keep practicing and I'll see you next week." Arthur smiled and waved in dismissal.

"Bye Arthur!" All of his students exclaimed as they made their way past Alfred to the waiting outside world. Arthur turned his back with a fond smile and began to shut down the studio for the day.

_Well it's now or never…_

"Um Arthur?" Alfred said loudly enough that it would gain the ash blonds attention but, hopefully not scare him…again.

Arthur flinched slightly and turned to the entry way "Oh… hello Alfred."

"I uh think I left my phone here last night" Alfred said feeling increasingly awkward.

"You… you did. I'll go get it, just wait one minute" Arthur replied mirroring Alfred's awkward tone. He shuffled into an interior room that Alfred assumed was his office. Upon returning about thirty seconds later Arthur held Alfred's missing cell phone in his hand.

"Thank you"

"You're welcome." They both fell into a silence that neither one knew exactly how to fill. They both had so much that they wanted to say but when it came down to time to let it out the words fled from them.

"Arthur I-"

"Alfred I-"

They both paused and stared at each other trying to decide who should speak first. Alfred unable to cope with the awkward atmosphere any longer opened the flood gates and let the buildup of words flow from his lips like a rushing river.

"Arthur, I'm sorry for the way I've been acting over the past few weeks. Especially yesterday. I never really was any good with following rules and having so many of them dumped on me at one time makes me just want to break as many of them as possible in one go. Even so that is no excuse for how I've been acting so, sorry."

"Alfred I should be the one apologizing. How I've been treating you is no better than the way you reacting in response. I also want to apologize for not giving you the opportunity to explain yourself yesterday. I behaved deplorably and I shall not let it happen again."

"Guess we both kinda acted like jerks huh?" Alfred asked sheepishly.

"I guess so." Arthur replied blushing.

"Can we try this whole thing again? I promise I'll hold to the rules better this time."

"And I'll try not to be as much of a control freak. Deal?"

"Deal." Alfred offered his hand which Arthur accepted and shook. After exchanging promises to see each other the next day at rehearsal Alfred departed with a better outlook for the next few weeks and an idea brewing in the back of his mind.

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><p>AN: Hey everyone. So, we're finally getting a move on with this story. We also get to see some new countries and a new side of Arthur. Hooray! In order of appearance we have:

Peter- Sealand

Wendy- The Principality of Wy

Marcello- Seborga

Nicolae- Moldova

Franz- Kuglemugle

If you want to know why I picked certain names you'll have to do some research. The songs that brought you this chapter are Riot by Three Days Grace and Mr. Saxobeat by Alexandra Stan. As always I give credit for the songs to the writers, producers, and artists. I own nothing but this story and the choreography there in. Reviews are always welcome and appreciated. And for anyone who is actually still reading this and cares, there may or may not be a lime in the next chapter (I'll never tell). See you guys after the New Year, Bye!


	6. Chapter 6

Hey everyone, just a heads up: there's a lime ahead. If you don't like that kind of thing you might want to skip this chapter. Have Fun!

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><p>"Ohonhonhon~ Mon petit Matthew, have I ever told you how much I adore that you're so flexible? It's giving me quite a few ideas of ways I can make use of your lovely legs" Francis mumbled, nipping gently at Matthew's earlobe as Matthew executed an attitude around Francis's waist behind him. Francis, unable to resist, placed a hand at Matthew's bent knee and slowly ran it up his inner thigh as his other hand turned Matthew's face so that lavender eyes met light ocean blue. A mischievous, almost predatory smirk crept across his face as the hand on his darling Matthew's inner thigh eased its way closer to his nether regions.<p>

_Normally he would have pulled away by now. C'est magnifique! He must be letting me know that he is ready to go further. My darling, I'm more than willing to go where ever you want me to. _

His thoughts for his future plans for Matthew continued as his hand finally reached its destination. His wandering hands were rewarded with a nearly silent gasp of surprise and delicate fingers, which had previously been gently winding in his golden blond hair, suddenly tightening in a death grip on the roots attached to his scalp. His eyes, previously glazed over with desire, snapped back to focus. What greeted him were lavender eyes that glinted dangerously as his errant hand was smacked harshly.

"Didn't I tell you to behave during rehearsal?" Matthew whispered as he slipped behind Francis in a serpent like manner.

"Désolé mon cher, but it is so difficult to resist temptation when it is wrapped around you like the serpent from the garden of Eden." Francis peered over his shoulder at the face of the man that had been keeping him on his toes for nearly three weeks. In all the time that they had spent together, Francis had yet to figure anything out about the walking mystery that was Matthew Williams, yet Matthew had him pegged like he had read the user's guide.

"I guess someone doesn't want their prize for good behavior then. Which is such a shame considering what it is." Francis turned to face the object of his confusion and desire and found him rolling up and adjusting his already deliciously tight and short dance shorts so that the legs stopped at the tops of his beautifully pale thighs.

_Merde! I need to figure him out. The fact that he can play me like a gorgeous blond violin and I can't even touch him is getting to be too much to bear._

He pulled Matthew into his arms and gazed down at his sweetly smiling face. "If I behave for the rest of rehearsal, will I still be able to receive my prize?"

"We'll just have to see, won't we?"

_Temptation, thy name is Matthew Williams._

No matter how much Francis wanted to get more than just his hands all over that devious little minx, he knew that if he didn't behave himself until the end of rehearsal he wouldn't get to touch him at all, which would be incredibly upsetting after what he felt through Matthew's shorts. So just like almost every rehearsal since their first week, he was trapped in Matthew's game and he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to be free. Mindful of where his hand on Matthew's back was, he pulled Matthew closer to his chest and tilted his chin up so that if he were to lean down just far enough, their lips would meet.

Francis smiled endearingly into Matthew's lavender eyes "Darling, I'm beginning to wonder which one of us is really the poisonous one."

"If I am the poisonous one now, I blame your bad influence. Not saying that's a bad thing though. It is rather fun watching you squirm for a bit" Matthew chuckled with a roll of his pelvis against Francis's groin.

"Tease" Francis growled predatorily.

"Thank you. Now let's get this started so you can have your reward. I can feel how badly you want it" Matthew replied unashamedly, nodding down at the increasingly obvious bulge in Francis's pants resting between them.

Francis pushed himself away from Matthew to start the song that Matthew thought described Francis and vice versa.

Baby, can't you see

I'm calling

A guy like you

Should wear a warning

It's dangerous

I'm falling

As the voice of Brittney Spears drifted from the speakers, Francis stood behind Matthew and wrapped his arms around Matthew's waist. He glanced down over Matthew's shoulder and met the lavender irises that he had come adore. Matthew smirked up into ocean colored orbs as he melted out of Francis's grasp and spun just barely out of reach. Francis cross stepped in Matthew's direction, stopping within catching distance of a falling Matthew.

There's no escape , I can't wait

I need a hit, baby give me it

You're dangerous

I'm lovin it

Matthew latched onto Francis's left hand and rolled over his arm onto the floor. With the gleam in his eye that appeared whenever they went over this part of the routine, he pulled Francis down so that he hovered over his body.

_Hold it together Francis. Hold. It. TOGETHER. It will all be worth it if that prize is what I think it is. Just have to hold on for a few more minutes. Be strong Francis. Be Strong!_

Francis pulled Matthew up against himself and felt a hand brush against his thigh. Matthew was trying to tempt him but Francis refused to take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Not until the right time. He refused to be denied a reward for good behavior. However, unbeknownst to Francis, Matthew had no intentions of denying him anything.

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><p>Despite his constantly wandering hands and rather perverse comments, Francis was a gentleman and very cautious of Matthew's reaction. But it was that cautious behavior that was about to drive Matthew up a wall. Every move that he made to let Francis know that it was okay for him to do whatever he wanted, Francis would pull back and Matthew would be left annoyed and slightly more frustrated than when they started. If what he had planned for today didn't work, he was just going to show up naked at his door and push him over.<p>

With the taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slippin under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I'm addicted to you, don't you know that you're toxic?

Matthew wrapped his arms around Francis's neck and pulled himself up so that they were body to body. He let Francis take his weight and swing him out from between his legs. He took hold of Francis's shoulders as he continued soaring above his head and let gravity take over as he landed behind Francis. They stood back to back, moving simultaneously. Both dancers pushed away from each other, only staying connected by a single hand. They both suddenly snapped back together , face to face, as if by magnetic force. Hips continuously moved together, sending small shivers up Matthew's spine from their connected groins.

_I've got to finish this. I don't know how much longer I can keep up this "holding back" routine before I attack this man._

Matthew turned his back to Francis and executed an attitude around his waist in the same way that started this doubly stressful game between the two. Francis gently grabbed the flesh above Matthew's knee, using that hand and the arm around Matthew's waist to support him as Matthew lifted his other foot. Matthew slithered around Francis to stand behind him and wrapped his arms around Francis's neck.

"Let's stop here. We'll pick it back up another day. I think it's about time for your reward." Matthew whispered into Francis's ear, nipping at the outer shell of his ear.

"Does my prize have anything to do with the reason you're going commando right now? If it does, then I'm really looking forward to it" Francis turned and pulled Matthew flush against him, feeling free to let his hands wander.

"It does, but you wouldn't have known that if you could control your hands. But that's irrelevant right now." Matthew started walking backward, pulling Francis with him into the back storage room.

"I like where this going." Francis tilted Matthew's chin up as he started leaning in toward his lips.

"Good. I think you'll like the end result even more." Matthew pressed his lips against Francis's. If they could have forced themselves any closer to each other they would've. In lieu of that, Matthew took a step back and fell onto the stack of mats Francis kept in storage for practicing lifts and tosses and dragged Francis down without separating their lips. As Matthew's back made contact with the soft yet firm surface, his mouth opened in a gasp that Francis's tongue immediately took advantage of by tangling itself with Matthew's in a dance, far more intimate that the one they were just working on.

_Perfect._ Matthew thought as he started winding his fingers into Francis's golden blond locks and his other hand began pushing Francis's shirt up his back, desiring for the accursed piece of fabric to be as far away from this gorgeous blond masterpiece as possible. Francis seemed to be having the exact same thought as one of his hands found its way up the front of Matthew's tank top and brushed across a rapidly hardening nipple.

* * *

><p>"Ah." Matthew paused his tearing off of Francis's clothes as he threw his head back at the sudden pressure on the surprisingly sensitive flesh.<p>

Francis, after witnessing that reaction, hastened his pace of eliminating the barrier of cloth keeping him from the pale expanse of Matthew's chest. He continued teasing the nipple , rolling and pressing with his fingers as his lips and tongue traced a path down Matthew's neck, occasionally leaving a hickey before continuing on. His lips finally found their way to Matthew's unoccupied nipple and his tongue snaked out to meet it. The gasp that escaped Matthew's parted lips urged Francis on and he began to suck and nibble on the delicate bud before his tongue ran over the skin to soothe any damage his teeth were doing. His free hand decided to make friends with gasping and quietly moaning Matthew's inner thigh. He massaged the soft flesh traveling up toward his crotch as he went. His hand reached its final destination as his lips and finger switched locations on Matthew's chest.

"Ah…Francis!" Matthew rolled his hips, forcing his growing erection into Francis's palm to gain more friction. His moaning voice vibrated off of the store room walls and rang in Francis's ears, sending a wave of heat down to his bulging manhood. Abandoning Matthew's slowly swelling nipples; Francis kissed and licked a trail down Matthew's abs to the top of his shorts covered hips. He left a series of marks across Matthew's waist as one hand held his hips in place and the other continued massaging the straining flesh beneath the material as a bit revenge for the teasing Matthew did in the middle of rehearsal.

"Francis! Ah… Stop Teasing!" Matthew moaned in frustration, desperately trying to roll his hips to gain more of the delicious friction that was being denied to him.

"Non non non mon cher. You'll get what you want after a little payback for earlier. You need to know exactly what you put me through before you get your release. I'm sure you understand, darling."

"Ple…ah…please Francis! I'm sorry! I won't do it again…just…ah fuck…please!"

Francis, finally deciding to have a little mercy on his poor little Matthew, eased his shorts down and off his legs, relieving some of the pressure off of Matthew's erection with them.

The sigh of relief had barely left Mathew's throat before a moan of pleasure bubbled up right after it. The moist, rough surface of Francis's tongue ran from base to tip up the underside of Matthew's cock. He repeated this for both the left and right side before kissing a path up to each hip and back.

"FRANCIS!" Matthew whined attempting to move his hips, still held down by Francis.

"Détends-toi, Matthew" Francis breathed against Matthew's tip, causing the naked dirty blond to shiver. " Allow me to finish sampling first. Don't want to indulge too quickly, oui?" He kissed the tip and smirked as Matthew let out a strangled moan. He finally took the tip into the warm moist cavern of his mouth and teased his slit with his tongue.

"Ah! Francis…Yes!" Matthew groaned as Francis descended onto his throbbing manhood. Francis began bobbing his head, taking more and more of Matthew in with each descent and taking immense pleasure in the desire soaked moans and gasps of his name as his tongue over some of his darling's most sensitive places. Francis pulled back, letting Matthew slip from between his lips as he started the popsicle treatment once again, before releasing Matthew's hips as he descended, to buck and roll in his mouth.

"Oh God Francis!" Matthew felt the familiar bunching in his gut that let him know that release was imminent. His manhood slipped in and out of the lips that had been the lips that had been the object of his late night fantasies as he inched closer and closer to oblivion.

"Hello? Francis, are you in here?" A female voice rang out from the studio main room.

"Francis, amigo! I know you're here. Come on out. You know we had plans with Gil today!" a male with a Spanish accent and a slight lisp soon followed.

Francis pulled back and froze in a panic at the two voices he really didn't want to hear at that moment. If the people out there had been anyone else he would have ignored them and continued his activities with the lovely horny creature beneath him but Michelle and Antonio tended to be nosy and persistent, and in his current position he'd rather anyone but them see him and Matthew. Matthew groaned in disappointment at the loss of the moist heat around his dick. Francis slapped a hand over his mouth a fraction of a second too late and prayed that his two guests didn't hear anything.

"Did you hear something?" Michelle inquires much to the chagrin of Francis.

_Damnit Michelle! Of all the times for you to actually be able to hear what's going on._ Francis glared at the store room door before turning toward Matthew with a pleading look in his ocean blue eyes. The passionate fire that had been burning in the lavender orbs was extinguished as rolled them and started getting dressed.

"Hold on señorita, I'll try calling him. He might not be able to hear us."

"No need Antoine, I'm right here" Francis said tying his hair back and looking at the two people that had interrupted one of the best moments of his week. "Michelle, what can I do for you?"

The long, dark brunette haired woman looked at her slightly disheveled company director and got the impression that she had interrupted something she really shouldn't have. She nervously wrung her hands in the knee length skirt of her pale blue dress. "I um…think I left my pointe shoes here. Did you see them? I'm sorry if I interrupted anything."

"This is the eighth time this month Michelle. Next time I'm tying them to your pigtails after rehearsal." Francis pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"Calm down Francis. I'm sure it was just a mistake. Let her get her shoes and you can finish up whatever you were do-" Antonio cut his sentence short as a very aggravated Matthew walked out of the same door Francis had previously exited. "Oh…"

All eyes were on Matthew as he made his way to the exit with a short "Bye Francis." Matthew walked out, slamming the door hard enough to crack the glass paneling.

Michelle started apologizing profusely as Antonio continued to stare at the door and Francis face palmed.

_Matthew is never going to forgive me for this._

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><p>AN: For those of you that are wondering, I am by no means ashamed of this. Matthew's a little pissed at me but that's to be expected. And I feel it is only right to introduce our temporary new character (she's not going to be around much):

Michelle-Seychelles

Anyway this chapter is brought to you by Toxic by Brittney Spears. As always all credit for the lovely musical selections goes to the writers, producers, and artist. I own nothing here but the story and the choreography there in. Reviews are always welcome. They are extremely helpful in breaking down the mental walls when it comes to writing all of this. Now, if any of you are mad at me after this…I bring you the approximate knowledge that there may or may not be a lemon next week (again I'll never tell). Happy New Year! See you next week!


	7. Chapter 7

Hey there readers. There's a lemon ahead. Just a warning. –Sgt. Coolwhip

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><p>"Hey Arthur?" Alfred sat on the floor of the studio, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with his stars and stripes towel, watching Arthur down half of his water bottle.<p>

"Hmm?" responded the ash blond without removing the bottle from his pouty pale pink lips. Four hours of rehearsing intensively left both blonds slightly exhausted but very much pleased with the progress being made. After clearing the air from the fight they'd had the previous week, everything appeared to be smooth sailing. Alfred kept his promise to follow the rules and Arthur did his best not to behave like an overly controlling cunt sack.

"Are you doing anything after this?" The nervous tremble in his voice indicated to Arthur that the blue eyed young man was hoping for a no.

_Wonder what's on the lads mind._ Arthur lowered his, now empty, water bottle and turned his attention to the young man still seated on the floor.

"Not really. Why?" The green eyed man inquired, noting the faint blush creeping up on the honey blond man's golden tanned cheeks.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere with me. It's not a date of anything. I just wanted to do something fun and I thought you might want to, too." The blush on his cheeks rose over his ears as he started rambling.

"I haven't seen you this flustered since you came crashing down from my ceiling." Arthur had to resist the urge to burst out laughing at the indignant look in those baby blue eyes that he was quite fond of.

"You promised you wouldn't bring that up anymore!" At the whiny, childish tone coming from the 6 foot tall, muscular male pouting on the ground, Arthur lost his shit. He doubled over as the laughter caused a cramp in his side and Alfred's whine of "Arthuuuuuuur!" was not helping.

Gasping for breath Arthur responded "I'm sorry Alfred. What is it you want to do tonight? We've been working pretty hard; some fun might do us some good."

"Glad to hear it. A friend invited me to a club where he's working tonight. It's supposed to be a fun crowd, especially on Saturday nights."

"I don't know Alfred. I don't really do well with clubs. I might have to pass on this one. I'm sure you can ask someone else that might be a little more fun."

"Come on, pleeeeeeease Arthur? I promise it will be really really fun. If you don't like it I'll take you back home. Scouts honor! Please?" He widened his eyes as he begged.

_How the bloody hell does he make his eyes so damned blue? It's like he knows they're my weakness. The fact that when he pokes his lip out like that when he begs is not helping my cause. He looks like an abandoned puppy! Ugh. Can't believe I'm about to do this._

"All right! I'll go! Just stop it with the eyes!" He conceded, looking anywhere but at the American that looked like he very much wanted to hug him.

"You mean it? Sweet! You'll have a great time Arthur! I know it." Alfred got up and looked like he was going to break into a victory dance. "Oh dude, I'm gonna need you address so I can pick you up." Arthur sighed in defeat before typing the desired information into the phone being shoved into his hand.

"I guess we can stop practice here. You look too excited to focus and I think it best if I rest up before you keep me out all night." Arthur started shutting down the studio as Alfred began packing up to leave.

"I'll see you at 9!" he called as he made his exit. Once outside and a safe distance from the door he pulled his phone out, dialed a number, and put the phone up to his ear. "Hey Fe, he's in…Yeah, it didn't take as long as I thought. Did Lars and Tor stock up?... Good, and Vash has the playlist I sent right?... Perfect…Oh really? Make sure Ivan knows I'm coming then… Yeah yeah, I'll see you tonight Fe." As he finished the call, he climbed into his car and drove home to plan out his outfit for that night, pleased that everything else was falling into place.

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><p>Matthew sat back on his couch with his second mug of coffee with maple syrup that day. Saturday being his day off was normally a relaxing thing, but lately his usually free mind was filled with thoughts of his stressful encounters with Francis after the storage room incident. Francis had been walking on eggshells around Matthew for the past week and Matthew was on the verge of either strangling him or dragging him by his luscious golden hair into the storage room and finishing what they had started.<p>

He let out a deep sigh, taking another sip of his coffee. The silence surrounding him was bordering on unbearable, but playing music recently just lead to even more thoughts of Francis. Thoughts that were so far from tame that they tended to lead to Matthew's hands taking a page out of Francis's book, except they wouldn't stop halfway, and Matthew didn't really feel like the clean up after further frustrating himself.

_Wonder if anyone is gonna be out tonight. I think I need to be around people. Al seemed pretty excited about his plans for tonight. Maybe he won't mind if I tag along for a while. I really just need to get out of here._

As Matthew reached for his phone to persuade (demand) that his brother let him tag along in his fun, there was a heavy knock on his door. He shuffled his way over to the door and opened it without checking the identity of the individual interrupting his planning of crashing other people's plans. Matthew didn't know who he was expecting to be on the other side of his door, his brother coming to raid his fridge and his closet (in that order), one of his neighbors, an alien, anyone but the ocean blue eyed Frenchman that had been occupying his mind.

"Hi Matthew, Do you mind if I come in?"

Matthew, still in a state of shock, stepped aside to let Francis into his domain. Francis stepped into the apartment, taking in Matthew's taste and smiling in approval. His eyes roamed over Matthew's body. "You look well. That's good." Francis made himself comfortable on the couch Matthew had recently evacuated. Finally having collected himself, Matthew joined Francis on the couch, wearing a mask of confusion, concern, and a pinch of desire.

"Why are you here a Francis? Today is my day off."

"Precisely why I am here mon petit fraise." Francis scooted a bit closer to Matthew, breaking out the dazzling 'convince-you-to-do-anything' smile that lead to their game of sexual frustration chicken. Matthew, still somewhat irritated with Francis's behavior over the past week, moved further away from him and knocked into the arm rest.

"Just tell me what you want. I'm not in the mood for your games right now. Spit it out and get out of my apartment."

"Matthew, darling, I'm sorry about last week. I didn't know those two were coming. I want to make it up to you. Will you come out with me today? We'll do whatever you want, just please give me a chance."

_Guess I've made him suffer enough…for now. I'll give him a chance. Hmm might be time to call in that favor._

"Fine Francis. I'll go on this date, but you pick what we do during the day. I've got plans for tonight. You can come along if you think you can handle it." Matthew threw him a challenging sidelong glance as he walked into his bedroom to get dressed. "I'll be ready in ten. Hope you have something fun planned."

"Of course, mon cher. I'll be downstairs waiting." Matthew waited until he heard the door close before holding his phone up to his ear, waiting for the recipient of the call to pick up.

"Hey Toris, it's Matt… I need a favor… Oh, is that right? Well allow me to tell you a story… You brought this on yourself. Once upon a time there was this Lithuanian man with a Polish boyfriend that liked to party. On a few occasions the Lithuanian man's boyfriend invaded his friend Matt's apartment. On one of these occasions, the Polish man came to Matt's apartment in five inch spikes and hot pants, drunk off his ass, convinced that he could be Matt's personal dietitian. After a brief struggle, the Polish man poured all of Matt's special maple syrup all over his freshly cleaned white carpet, puked, then passed out. His Lithuanian boyfriend promised his friend a favor in exchange for taking care of his drunken boyfriend. A favor that had yet to be called in… Figured you'd see it my way. I'll be there at 10. Pull out the good French wine." He hung up before hurrying to get dressed and meet Francis.

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><p>The pounding of the bass from the club that they were approaching vibrated up Arthur's skinny jean clad legs as he unconsciously matched his steps to the beat. The sign for the Flying Dutchman flashed neon lights, making both Arthur and the blue eyed young man that dragged him on this little adventure squint as they got closer to the door.<p>

"What kind of club is this Alfred? I've never heard of it." He turned his head to his companion for the evening and was once again struck by the masculine beauty that is Alfred F. Jones. Dressed in low slung black skinny jeans, a white sleeveless shirt with 'Hero Time' scrawled diagonally across the torso with black letters, and black and white checkered vans, Alfred looked like a party god. That stacked on top of the model physique and the boyishly charming face, made it almost impossible for Arthur not to imagine doing unmentionable things to that honey blond Adonis.

"No worries Arthur. Everyone here is cool and you'll have a great time." Alfred was practically yelling as they got to the door, completely by passing the line people seeking entrance. The bright smile that Alfred was sporting got even brighter as he belted out a cheerful "You Ivan!"

"Alfred, comrade, it has been a while." If Arthur thought Alfred was an armored tank of muscle, he couldn't possibly fathom how to describe Ivan. Standing in the traditional all black, with the exception of a five foot long gray scarf, of bouncers everywhere was a gray haired giant Russian with an innocent face that could have rivalled Alfred's own and… was that a metal pipe on his hip?!

"Arthur this is my buddy Ivan."

"It is great pleasure to meet a friend of Alfred" The Russian extended an enormous hand that could have easily engulfed Arthur's own several times over. The innocent smile on his face never faltered as he put a death grip on Arthur's poor delicate fingers.

"Pleasure." Arthur winced as his hand was released.

Turning his attention back to Alfred, the jolly Russian giant waved them in with a "Feliks said to see him at the bar!"

The smell of sweat and the sight of slowly grinding and gyrating bodies surrounded the blonds as Alfred dragged Arthur over to the bar, pausing to wave at the blank faced wheat blond DJ bobbing his head in time with the saxophone rhythm of Talk Dirty to Me in front of the Swiss flag.

"Hey Alfred, how many people do you know in this place?"

"Just a few." Alfred's innocent smile shifted into a mysterious, amused one as if sharing a private joke with everyone in the club with the exception of Arthur.

"Al! What, like, took you so long to get here? I totally thought you like decided to ditch me when I brought out like all of you faves."

"Sup Fe" Alfred responded to the individual yelling at them from across the bar. Arthur knew the voice he heard was definitely male, but the person they were approaching was wearing a neon pink tube top and a matching bow in his shoulder length blond hair.

"So is this the guy? He's like totally cute!" Directing his attention to the growing more confused by the second Arthur, he shouted over the music with a smile "I'm Feliks, a friend of Al's. He's told me, like, so much about you. You're totes more adorable than this idiot gave you credit for."

Ignoring Alfred's exclamation of "FELIKS!" and desiring to not be rude, Arthur put on a sociable smile and replied "It's a pleasure to meet you as well Feliks."

"Oh, a gentleman too? Hang on to this one Al or someone here will snatch him away."

"Don't you have work to do?" Alfred, trying his hardest to appear unruffled, dragged Arthur toward the dance floor.

"That was rather rude of you. She was just trying to be friendly." Arthur wasn't even going to pretend that he wasn't thoroughly amused by Alfred's discomfort. Seeing the man that put him on edge, more often than not, squirm was one of the very few joys in his life other than his students. So he was going to savor being in a place with someone else who could torment his partner as much as humanly possible.

"Two things. First, that was not funny dude. Second, Feliks is a guy. He just happens to like girls clothes. Don't know how he walks in those heels all night though."

Arthur had stopped listening at the knowledge of Feliks's gender. "A guy?!" he exclaimed in alarm. He took a closer look around the dance floor in front of them and immediately noticed that the short black haired, presumably Asian, person dancing between the tanned man with the mask and the sleepy looking brown haired man with the cat tattooed on his uncovered pectoral, grinding his rear against the masked man and arms around cat tattoo guy pulling him in so that they were body to body, was a little too flat and not curvy enough to be female. He continued scanning the room and took note of all of the people dancing, drinking, kissing, and… performing illicit acts in the corner of the room were all male. "What the bloody fuck kind of club did you bring me to? I thought it was weird with the bouncer with the pipe on his hip, but Feliks being a guy and… and every fucking thing here! What in the name of all things fucking normal made you think I wanted to be here…" Arthur continued his rambling and screaming until he started to hyperventilate.

"Dude, calm down." Alfred stood in front of the spazzing out brit and wrapped his arms around his waist. "Calm down. You freaking out in exactly why you're here right now. You need to pull some of your barriers down and have some fun. I've been working with you for a while and I noticed that whenever something is out of you comfort zone you try to shut it out and run. Not tonight, you're getting out of that zone, loosening up, and having a good time, okay?" As Alfred explained, he felt more than saw Arthur calm down and begin to breathe normally.

"Okay." Arthur straightened his short sleeved pale green button up and wriggled out of Alfred's arms.

"Good. Now, may I have this dance? I picked the playlist for tonight so nothing crazy should happen. Then again, Vash is DJ-ing so there's no telling when he'll deviate." Alfred broke out the 'charm-your-pants-off' smile and made it impossible for Arthur to say no to anything he wanted. Arthur unconsciously nodded his consent and felt himself being pulled to the center of the floor as the song changed. The intro of the song and Sean Paul's voice gave it away as the English version of Bailando by Enrique Iglesias. Arthur began to move to the music, letting his feet pick up the beat and his hips swing. But, like the traitor it was proving to be, 'competitive dancer brain' turned on and Arthur's movements began to transform into the jerky moves of someone trying to choreograph when they have no real control over the music.

You look at me and girl you take me to another place

Got me feeling like I'm flying like I'm out of space

Something bout your body says "come and take me"

Got me begging, got me hoping that the night don't stop

Lost in his attempts at choreography, Arthur failed to realize that a pair of muscular arms wrapped around his waist. "You're thinking too much again." Alfred's breath brushed against his earlobe and sent a shiver down his spine. He felt himself being pulled backward flesh against Alfred's body. "Don't think, just feel the music and follow my lead. If it helps, try closing your eyes. Imagine it's just you and me." Following Alfred's advice, Arthur let his eyelids fall and surrendered control to the other man. His hips and torso swung and twisted in time with Alfred's as he moved closer, leaving absolutely no distance between the two dancers.

Girl I like the way you move

Come and show me what to do

You can tell me that you want me

Girl you got nothing to lose

I can't wait no more

I can't wait no more

The world fell away as the song continued. Nothing remained but the two of them, grinding and rolling hips, and the music surrounding them. Arthur wound his arm around Alfred's neck behind him as he leaned his head back on Alfred's shoulder.

I wanna be contigo

And live contigo, and dance contigo

Para have contigo

Una noche loca

Ay besar tu boca

I wanna be contigo

And live contigo, and dance contigo

Para have contigo

Una noche loca

Con tremnda loca

The spearmint scented breath slipping past his eardrum in the form of song lyrics coming from Alfred's lips was doing things to Arthur's body that would never be able to be translated into words in any language. "You have a very nice voice." Arthur turned his head so that his cheek rested on Alfred's collar bone. "It's very soothing, like I could listen to it all day."

"Glad you like it Arthur. If you're nice to me, I might sing for you again." A teasing smile could be heard in Alfred's voice as he tightened his hold on Arthur's waist.

"Don't get cocky, you git." Arthur tried to sound like his usual, perpetually annoyed self, but it was impossible with how much fun he was having just dancing for the hell of it.

_When was the last time I had this much fun just dancing?_ Arthur opened his eyes at that thought and accidentally bumped into someone. He was about to apologize but upon seeing whom he had knocked into, the only words that left his lips were "Holy. Fucking. Shit!" Standing in before him was another Alfred. This one, instead of black skinny jeans, wore red jeans of a similar style. He also wore the same style of shirt with the exception of the design. Instead of 'Hero Time' across the torso, this Alfred sported a bright red maple leaf in the center of his shirt. "Why the blood fucking hell are there two Alfreds?!" He confusedly looked back and forth between the two quickly enough to give himself whip lash.

Arthur heard his Alfred mumble in a perplexed manner "Two Alfreds?" before he looked up and met the lavender eyes that he had grown up with and yelled like a delighted child "Mattie!" releasing Arthur to hug what seemed to be his clone.

"Mattie? Alfred can you explain what the fuck is happening?" Arthur massaged his temples, trying to get his head around the situation presented to him.

"Oh Arthur, this is my twin brother Matthew Williams. Mattie this is Arthur." The twins shared one of those looks that said ten thousand words that can only be understood by people with close sibling relationships.

"You never said you had a twin! Could have saved me a fucking heart attack."

"I'd recognize that foul mouthed British accent anywhere." A heavily French accented voice that made Arthur cringe sounded over the confusion. An arm snaked around Matthew's hips and the face of a man that Arthur would rather sell his soul than see again appeared over Matthew's shoulder. "Bonsoir Arthur."

"What the bloody fuck are you doing here you cheese eating surrender monkey?!" Arthur yelled, resisting the urge to rush over to Francis and beat him until he was beyond recognition.

"Your mouth is still as foul as ever, mon ami." Francis refused to be wound up by Arthur's insults. They were part of a tradition between the two, but lately they had been getting a fair bit more creative.

"Are you going to answer my question you cum guzzling twat waffle?!" Arthur was growing more irritated by the second. But what Francis let slip past his lips next was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"You weren't complaining when it was your cum I was guzzling Arthur." Everything after that happened faster than anyone could actually remember. Arthur was being held back, barely, by Alfred and Francis was being scolded in two languages by Matthew. The area around them had been partially cleared due to Vash firing a shot into the crowd from the DJ booth and Feliks was clicking over, revealing his pink tutu and fishnet clad legs and his favorite five inch spikes, while his shaking brunet boyfriend took over for him behind the bar.

"Boys boys boys. This is, like, not how we handle things here. Vash, sweetie, can you give us a little something to, like, set the mood?" Feliks yelled over the commotion caused by the group of men, placing his hands on his hips.

A sharp voice, obviously Vash, replied "Didn't I tell you not to call me sweetie?" the rest of what he said was drowned out by his musical selection.

If you wanna get with me

There's some things you gotta know

I like my beats fast

And my bass down low

"What the hell is this about?" Arthur finally stopped trying to get to Francis so he could rip his throat out, to turn a furiously confused face at the stupidly grinning Feliks. Feliks popped his hip out and glanced back and forth between the ocean blue eyed blond and the forest green eyed blond.

"If you boys want to fight, you have to dance it out. We decide who won by who can out do the other. Sound good? Excellent." Both men stared at the femininely dressed man making decisions for them, suppressing the urge to for a truce (temporarily) and attack him.

"Frenchie, since you weren't trying to throw any punches, you can go first. Dazzle us." Feliks stepped back to clear the floor for the two dancers.

"If I must." Francis mumbled with a long suffering sigh.

It's like one, two, three, fuck it

I'm bout to take this drink and just stuff it

Fish tank this thing along with four more shots

Of Patron I give a fuck about goin home

Straight buzzin Robotussin

Wanna get a lick of this lovin

G-g-g-get a lick of this lovin

The way Francis moved made him look weightless and heavy, loose and stiff, disorganized and controlled. Sharp arm movements flowed over smooth footwork, making Francis look like two different dancers. Just watching him made Arthur want to beat him to a quivering pulp with a stale baguette. He also to bury himself in a fifty foot ditch and never come out, because watching Francis dance was bringing back memories of the two of them that he thought he had buried under mountains of choreography.

"Alrighty Arthur, you're up." Completely lost in memories of dance partners past, Arthur failed to notice that Francis was graciously offering him the floor, until Feliks practically screamed it in his ear.

It's like one, two, thee, okay

Can I get a little Goose in my O.J.?

E'rey day feel like my birthday

And we drink champagne when we thirsty

Quit fightin' while your husband

Tryin to get his mitts in my oven

Wanna get a lick of this lovin?

G-g-g-get a lick of this lovin

Arthur began moving, trying to get his flow back as the music continued, His reminiscing's about Francis kept him off his game and he could feel it in the awkward way his foot moved and the cramp growing in his side. Arthur was on the verge of quitting, grabbing Alfred, and dragging him out of the club. Arthur turned to meet Alfred's eye. 'You think too much. Loosen up, feel the music and follow my lead.' Alfred's words drifted through his head making him smile. Taking that advice once more, Arthur cleared his mind, letting the music take control. His movements became as natural as breathing and Arthur began feeling the same rush that he got when he first started dancing. He felt the heat, the love, and the passion that he had lost for dance. Euphoria.

_It's been far too long since I felt this way._

Still lost in the music, Arthur continued dancing, unconsciously drawing Francis in. Francis could see the sparks of the Arthur he once knew and joining him in that space was something he just couldn't miss. The two fell into the rhythm that made them a dynamic duo in the dancing world. An old connection that was once dissipated between the two bubbled back up to the surface. The chemistry in the air was so potent that everyone in the room could taste it. This needed to stop. Two identical flashes of blond rushed in to separate the two dancers before the situation between them could get any more intimate. Alfred hauled Arthur back toward the bar and Matthew dragged Francis out the door by his ear, much to the amusement of Ivan.

* * *

><p>The ride to Francis's place was tense and silent. That silence carried over into the walk up to his unit, making it awkwardly longer than it actually was. Upon entrance into the apartment, the first two words to leave Matthew's beautiful pouty lips were "Bedroom. Now."<p>

If Matthew weren't so tired of waiting, the expression that crossed Francis's face when he said "Yes sir" would have been priceless. Francis lead the way into an interior room of his apartment, completely unaware of anything his darling Matthew had planned. A sensation that he had grown quite accustomed to. Francis opened the door to his bedroom revealing a king sized bed draped with a large blanket and an ocean of pillows leaning against the head board, all modeled after the French flag. Tasteful white wood bedside tables, dressers, and bookshelves lined the walls along with a vanity and…

"A stripper pole?" Matthew cocked an eyebrow at Francis and forced back a smile at the idea that popped into his head.

"It's an excellent core workout." Francis explained, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

"I agree, but I have a different use for it tonight." The predatory gleam in Matthew's eyes was the same as it was in the store room the week before. "Sit." The command in his voice had Francis sitting on his bed like a well-trained dog, and the image of him with perked up dog ears was enough to make Matthew's smile widen. In his brief scan of the room Matthew located a small speaker that would serve his purposes for the evening quite well. With a wink, he walked over to the speaker, with a little swing in his hips, to hook up his iPod and set his plan into motion. As the music began, Matthew kicked off his shoes and slowly started loosening his belt while sensually swinging his hips.

I'm tellin you to loosen up my button baby

But you keep frontin

Sayin what you gon do to me

But I ain't seen nothin

Matthew tossed his belt onto the bed, set aside for possible later use…if they had the time and energy.

Without his belt, Matthew's jeans fell a little lower off of his hips as they swung back and forth. Francis's eyes followed their path like they were a hypnotist's watch, until a shirt fell on to his face covering his eyes and blocking the show Matthew was putting on for him. He tore it away from his eyes so quickly it almost gave him a welt on his cheek. Once his line of sight was cleared he had to blink a few times because another face with lavender eyes was nose to nose with his. Fingers swiftly unbuttoned and removed his shirt as a tongue snaked out to brush across his lower lip before retreating as his dearest Matthew walked backward to lean against the cool silver pole.

Typical

Hardly the type I fall for

I like when the physical

Don't leave me askin for more

I'm a sexy mama

Who knows how to get what I wanna

What I want to do is spring this on you

Back up all the things that I told you

Matthew reached up, clasping both hands, one right over the other, on the pole pulling himself off of the ground. He flipped himself upside down so that his bare chest was against the cold metal. He swung his legs to the opposite side of the pole before sliding down to the floor. Francis looked like he was going to bite his lip off with how hard he was gnawing on it. The bulge in his pants looked like it was going to destroy his zipper. Everything about this was going better than Matthew could have ever dreamed.

Baby can't you see?

How these clothes are fittin on me

And the heat comin from this beat

I'm about to blow

I don't think you know

Matthew unbuttoned his pants and let them slide down his sinfully swinging hips until they hit the floor and he stepped out of them. In the process Matthew may have saved Francis's bottom lip, because his jaw dropped at the sight of Matthew's choice of undergarment for the evening.

"Are you supposed to do that to a nation's flag?" Francis panted, eyes travelling to the red and white thong wrapped around Matthew's waist with a red maple leaf covering his crotch.

Matthew smirked at the comment. "Not sure. But I'm almost certain we shouldn't do what I'm planning on yours." Matthew straddled Francis's waist, pushing his shoulders down. Francis pulled Matthew down, meeting him halfway with a steaming kiss that Matthew did not hesitate to return. Lips and tongues intermingled as Matthew's fingers went to work relieving some of the pressure on Francis's cock by unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. A sigh of relief passed Francis's lips followed by an impassioned groan as a hand wrapped around his unclothed member.

"This seems kind of familiar. Right down to one of us being sans underwear." Matthew chuckled then gaped at the sound of shredding fabric.

"True. But I intend to finish what we started last week." Francis flipped them over so that was resting between his beautifully naked Matthew's legs. He trailed kisses down Matthew's neck and collar bone, tasting the salty sweat from Matthew's little performance. Remembering Matthew's sensitive places Francis zeroed in on Matthew's nipple bringing his lips down to place a kiss and trail his tongue over one.

"Ah." Matthew gasped as Francis picked back up where they began the week before. Same spot, same delicious pressure. The only thing missing was Francis's hand massaging his manhood. But as much as Matthew desired for that hand to stroke him into sweet oblivion, he knew Francis was occupying that hand with gathering things that would make this night perfect, judging by the shuffling he heard in in the bedside table drawer.

"Francis.." The sound of his own name moaned in Matthew's voice made him want to move this process along a lot faster, but doing things too quickly with Matthew usually ended with Matthew pumping the brakes or an interruption. Francis, finally retrieving what he'd been after, a bottle of lube and a condom, pulled his hand out of the drawer, ready to devote the entirety of his attention to Matthew. He placed the items on the side of his body where he could easily reach them when the time came. His now free handmade its way down Matthew's side to his hip as he licked a path down to Matthew's neglected manhood and enveloped him in the warmth of his mouth. Matthew hissed as Francis ran his tongue up and down the underside of his cock. He heard the sound of a cap coming off of a bottle, but he couldn't bring himself to care because his head was in a lovely daze that he never wanted lifted. The moist finger making its way into his entrance caught his attention.

"You're already pretty loose down here, darling" Francis breathed against the tips of Matthew's dick as a second finger joined the first. "I'm already two fingers in." He scissored, twisted, and crooked his fingers searching for Matthew's magic spot.

"I may h-ah-have pregamed a little before we –Aaaaaaah-JESUS!" Everything in Matthew's line of vision vanished behind a wall of white before dispersing into fireworks behind his eyelids.

As Matthew gasped, trying to gain some semblance of control, Francis pressed his fingers against that spot again. "Found it." Francis chuckled as he watched Matthew's back arch when he moaned.

"Francis…. Hurry up and fuck me!" Matthew's yell of frustration transformed into a groan of pleaser as he rocked himself on Francis's fingers.

"As you wish, dearest" Francis removed his fingers and lined himself up with Matthew's entrance. He pushed himself into Matthew's heat and had to use every fiber of his being not to drive full throttle into his new lover. He may have been trying to get here for damn near a month but he had always been a considerate lover and he was not willing to compromise that.

"Move." Matthew was breathing rapidly and he felt uncomfortable stretched but he was sick of waiting. He waited months to get into Francis's studio and somewhere along the way it became a count down until they became one. All of that waiting time no longer mattered to him as he felt Francis thrust in and out of him. The sound of labored breathing with the occasional moan from Matthew filled the room until Francis his Matthew's magic button.

"FRANCIS!" Matthew screamed in ecstasy and started meeting Francis thrust for thrust. "MORE!"

"Oui, mon amour" Francis angled his hips so that he couldn't miss that spot. Every moan from Matthew push Francis closer and closer to the edge. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold back, his rhythm was already slipping, but he was determined to make Matthew finish first. He could feel Matthew tightening around him and the last thing his darling needed was one final push. Francis wrapped his fingers around Matthew's straining member and started to jerk him off.

"Fuck… FRANCIS!" Matthew's voice ringing out in climax was the final push Francis needed. He pushed himself deeper into Matthew and let everything that he had been holding back, release into his lover with a groan from the bottom of his soul. Both blonds exhaustedly attempted to catch their breath as Francis pulled out of Matthew and collapsed beside him. Ignoring the dull ache in his hips, Matthew turned and curled himself against Francis, tucking his head under Francis's chin, while Francis wrapped his arms around Matthew with a content sigh.

"Francis?"

"Oui?"

"Je t'aime."

Francis kissed Matthew's forehead and responded "Je t'aime aussi."

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry this is so late. The past week just got away from me. But you guys don't care about that. This chapter was brought to you by three songs this time around. Bailando (English Version) by Enrique Iglesias feat Sean Paul, Bass Down Low by Dev feat. The Cateracs, and Buttons by The Pussycat Dolls. As usual all credit for our lovely musical selections goes to the writer, producers and artist. I own nothing here but the story and choreography therein. Reviews are always always always welcome. They let me know what you like and what you don't like. Thanks! See you next week when we'll hopefully be back on schedule.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N 1: Hey guys Sorry I've been gone for so long. But a new semester, tech failure , and a serious lack of inspiration don't got well together. Thanks for all the support and not just vanishing on me. I'll do my best to not be gone for too long next time, thought I will be off schedule until my first few papers of the semester are finished. Anyway you guys don't care about my life, you guys care about what the hell is going to happen in this story. But before we do that, who wants to know what happened with Al and Arthur after Mattie and Francis left? … Figured you might. Lime ahead. Have fun! –Sgt C.W.

* * *

><p>Heavy breathing and the faint sound of voices roused Arthur from his unconscious state. <em>Agh what happened? Where am I?<em>

"Ah, Arthur, you feel so good!" A voice panted, sounding strained but containing so much pleasure.

"Alfred…ah…more! Harder!" Arthur heard his own voice, sounding more needy than he had ever heard it before. _What the hell is going on? It sounds like… but it can't be. But I don't remember what happened after I started drinking. _The darkness surrounding him made everything he heard more real. All of the echoes reverberated in his body, sending the blood in his body pooling into his nether regions. The volume of the voices increased as time went on. The sound of their rising pleasure beat against his ear drums until…

"Aaaaaaaaah!" He heard his own voice making the lustiest sound of climax in the history of sexual sounds, soon followed by the deep and heavy groan of Alfred tumbling after him before the world was flooded with blinding light.

The soft surface his face was planted in started smothering him as tried to breathe while simultaneously attempting not to scream. Snapping his head up so that was no longer trying to inhale his pillow, Arthur gasped and gulped down as much air as he could. He took note of his location, thankful that he appeared to be in his own bed and, by extension, his own home. The relief had barely set in before a splitting pain exploded in his temple causing him to face plant back into his pillow.

_Why? Why won't the light shut up?_

In the brief moments that Arthur was able to keep his eyes open, he saw that while his bed was empty, except for himself, it looked slept in. With that in mind he took inventory of his clothing. _Pants are still on, No trousers…_He ran his hand sown his chest._ Shirt open, missing buttons. Hips aren't sore, splitting head ache. _His stomach growled, informing him that food needed to be introduced into his system or his stomach was going to start eating itself. That was when he smelled something so delicious that, if he weren't faced down in a pillow, would have made him drool a river.

_Aspirin then food. Aspirin then food._

Dreading the walk to his bathroom, Arthur sat up squinting at the sunlight streaming in through the window. To his surprise, two pills and a glass of water sat on the table beside his bed waiting for him.

_Who?_

Picking up the pills and glass, he swallowed the aspirin down with a silent thank you to the saint that left them there. Arthur dug around in his dresser in search of comfortable clothes as a speaking baritone voice drifted under the closed door.

_Looks like I get to see my saint after all._

Opening the door and taking a step into the blessedly dark hallway, the voice became clearer… and so did the music.

We are the muses

Goddesses of the arts and proclaimers of heroes

_Is that…It is a Disney song. Which can only mean that my saint is…_

Arthur stepped into the doorway of his kitchen and was met with the delectable smell that had drawn him out of bed and a sight that had him debating locating a camera for blackmail purposes or quietly walking away to crawl back into bed and try that whole waking up thing again.

Back when the world was new

And planet Earth was down on its luck

And everywhere gigantic brutes called titans

Ran a muck

Standing in from of the stove Alfred stood in a pose reminiscent of Elvis Presley, singing into a spatula. On two burners sat skillets of eggs and potatoes and… did he smell blueberry muffins?

It was a nasty place

There was a mess where ever you stepped

Where chaos reigned and

Earthquakes and volcanoes never slept

With each changing singer Alfred changed his tone and pitch. Even though the song was meant for female voice, Alfred could carry it off better than anyone Arthur had ever heard. He stirred the eggs, adding a bit of spice as he continued singing.

And then along came Zeus

He hurled his thunderbolt

He zapped

Locked those suckers in a vault

They're trapped

And on his own stopped chaos in its tracks

And that's the gospel truth

The guy was too type A to just relax

A timer sounded in the background while Alfred danced and sang his heart out. He bent over, still swinging his hips, to open the oven and pull out a tray of freshly made muffins, forcing Arthur to hold in painful laughter while trying to make his escape.

"Arthur? That you?" The music stopped and Alfred poked his head around the corner to look at the retreating brit. "How ya feelin'? You partied pretty hard last night." Alfred's normally pleasant sounding voice sounded like nails scratching against a chalk board over a high school sound PA system to the poor hung over man.

"Ah not so loud Alfred. Feels like someone is practicing drums on my skull." Arthur sat down in his usual place and laid his head on the table. A soft clinking sound and warmth radiating against his cheek made him look up.

"Heads up dude. Hot plates. I also made some tea. I wasn't sure how you liked it though so there's sugar, lemon, and honey on the table." Alfred had lowered his voice as to not cause his poor partner any more pain.

Taking a fork full of food, Arthur started eating as Alfred sat down watching him as if awaiting critique.

"I didn't know you could cook. It's all very delicious," Arthur took a bite of the muffin and had to stop himself from purring, lest Alfred call him a kitten again "but you didn't need to make muffins. I had fresh scones sitting on the stove."

"Those were scones?" Alfred's bespectacled face was both confused and horrified as he remembered the pastry he had the displeasure of biting into earlier that morning. The thing was both burnt and raw at the same time and Alfred needed to know exactly how Arthur had managed to make that happen.

"Yes, they were scones. Do you have a pro-?" Arthur was cut off by Alfred suddenly taking hold of his hand and giving him a pleadingly desperate look.

"Arthur, promise me you'll never cook for yourself again. I will come here every day to cook for you if I have to, just never ever touch a stove again unless it's to make yourself tea."

"If I agree, will you let go of my hand and stop yelling? It's too damn early and my head aches too damn much to argue with you right now."

"Thank you." Alfred finally relaxed and took a bite of his own food. "So now that you're awake, I have a few questions about some of the things that happened last night."

"Before I answer that I need to know what happened last night. Everything after that frog and your brother left is a blur." Arthur scratched the back of his head as if his scalp held the answers to the mystery of the rest of his night and was being a wanker about sharing the information. When he pulled his hand free of his slightly tangled ash blond locks, his fingers were shimmering like that vampire, what's-his-face, from Twilight. "Why the devil am I covered in glitter?! Alfred, what the hell did I do last night?"

"Promise to answer my questions and I'll tell you everything." A sly smile crossed the American's face at the look of panicked distress on Arthur's.

"Fine, just fucking tell me before I introduce your testicles to my fork."

"Not a morning person are we Arthur? All right, first things first. Who was that guy with my brother, the one you called, and correct me if I get the phrase wrong, a 'cum guzzling twat waffle'? Follow up, what exactly did he mean when he said that you didn't complain when it was your cum he was guzzling?"

"To answer your first question, that was Francis Bonnefoy. I'm sure you've heard of him. As for your second question, in accordance with your American Constitution, I plead the Fifth." Arthur sniffed his tea and added some lemon after noting that it was Earl Grey before taking a sip and sighing in satisfaction.

"Hate to break this to you dude, but you're British and thereby unable to invoke Fifth Amendment rights. Answer the question!" Alfred adjusted his glasses and continued staring at the forest eyed man like he was a suspect avoiding questioning in interrogation.

"I answered your questions; now tell me what happened last night."

"This isn't over. I have more questions, but I guess I can fill in some gaps before you answer them." Alfred sighed closing his baby blue eyes. "So you remember everything up to me dragging you back to the bar right? Well Feliks followed us back and started serving you drinks…"

* * *

><p>Alfred was glad that Arthur listened to him and loosened up, but loosening up and getting closer to another man was not part of the equation. Especially since those two seemed to have a history, if those insults were any indication. Alfred wasn't sure what the hell a 'cum guzzling twat waffle' was but he needed to know if it involved Arthur and some dude sucking him off. Arthur's bright laughter as he struggled slightly to get out of Alfred's grasp over his shoulder would have made Alfred happy if he knew the actual cause. He needed answers. He placed Arthur, as gently as possible, on the floor in front of the bar.<p>

"What was that for Al? I was having fun!" Arthur was breathless and beaming as Alfred with a smile so warm that it would melt the frozen tundra.

Even though his heart was racing at the sight of the beautifully joy filled expression and the fact that Arthur had called him 'Al', which never happened, Alfred could not stop himself from thinking _A little too much fun._

"Hey Arthur-"Alfred started to voice his concerns when a Polish accented voice cut him off.

"That was, like, totally insane! Al said you could dance but I didn't think it would be anything like that!" Feliks flounced over to them behind the bar, tutu bouncing and heels clicking the whole way.

"Thank you Feliks. And I don't think Alfred told you about my being able to dance like that because he didn't know." Alfred felt the icy glare he shot at Feliks for interrupting melt away at the warm tone of Arthur's voice at the good time he was having.

"I, like, think it's time for some shots! And they're, like, totally on the house for you guys." Feliks already had glasses lined up and started pouring from an unlabeled bottle that Alfred immediately recognized. It was something of a house mystery as to what it actually was but Feliks only brought it out when Alfred was there. No one really knew what it was; all they knew is that it was strong. The only people that could handle more of it than Alfred were Ivan and some guy that wouldn't give his name but had an easily recognizable laugh that was impossible to imitate.

"Fe, are you sure about this? Remember what happened last time Lars caught you serving shots on the house?" Alfred needed to keep Arthur from drinking what was in that glass, no matter how interesting the result would be. After Feliks had a couple shots of it Alfred had gotten several furious calls from both Toris and Matt about what they called 'The maple syrup fiasco!' He couldn't let something like that happen with Arthur.

"Who's Lars?" Arthur inquired, picking up the glass and smelling it.

Feliks knocked his own drink back before answering. "Lars is the Dutch Man himself. Thought we're not sure about that flying part. He owns that club and shit. And Al. last time was, like, not that bad." He started pouring himself another shot.

"Maybe not for you. You didn't have to deal with Tor, Matt, and Lars along with a hangover. Arthur you really don't want to drink that." Alfred reached for the glass, hoping to prevent another incident and 45 minute lecture from Toris sided with a substantial bill for damage to both the bar and the club image from Lars. Just as he was about to wrap his fingers around the glass, it was snatched away as Arthur danced his way out of Alfred's reach.

"Piss off!" Arthur downed his shot, much to the dismay of Alfred and the delight of Feliks, who was already refilling the empty glass. "I do whatever the fuck I want!"

"Yeah! You, like, tell him Arthur!" Feliks yelled as the volume of the music started to increase.

Shots shots shots shots

Shots shots

Shots shots shots shots

Shots shots

Shots shots shots shots

Shots shots

Everybody!

If Alfred wasn't already certain that saying so would result in a cap in his ass, he would have demanded that Vash change the song immediately. Whenever this song came on, that un-imitable, easily recognizable laugh would soon follow and all hell would break loose.

Arthur was already three shots in and didn't give any indication of stopping as his inhibitions slipped further and further away. He swayed in place, laughing along with whatever the hell Feliks was saying. Alfred knew that he couldn't understand a word being said, no one could the first time they had a couple of hits from the mystery bottle.

* * *

><p>"Wait wait wait. You let me drink something that you're not even sure of the contents of?!" Arthur exclaimed in alarm. The meds and tea were finally kicking in so the pounding in his head receded.<p>

"Dude, no one but Lars and possibly Ivan knows what that stuff is. Lars just showed up with it one day and told us 'Drink up'. Ivan looked thrilled after he took a hit so we thought 'Can't be terrible'. After Lars bailed us out of jail the next day me and Fe wanted to know what that shit was and Lars told us 'Do not stick your nose where it does not belong', I took that as 'this stuff is not legal here and if you rat me out , your kidneys will be on sale on the black market'. Needless to say we don't ask questions anymore."

"How's they even get that shit here?"

"Apparently Lars knows a guy in Amsterdam who knows a guy in Moscow. They don't ask questions and neither does he." Alfred pushed his glasses up on his nose to get a better look at Arthur's confused face.

"This sounds incredibly shady, but I'll drop it for now. Please continue with the story." Arthur poured himself another cup of tea in an attempt to forget about his mystery drinks.

"Rightio. Now as I was saying, you were on your fourth shot and already hazy. I'm surprised you held out that long in the first place. You've got to tell me how you built up your tolerance. Most people are passed out by the second shot. If they make it longer they usually end up in a situation they can't explain."

Resisting the urge to throw a lemon at Alfred's honey blond head, Arthur yelled "Finish the story you bloody American arsehat!"

"Right, so as I was saying…"

* * *

><p>"Kesesesesesesesese!"<p>

_Oh no. Not now. Not with Arthur like this._

"Sup brohaus! The awesome me has come to grace you with mein awesome presence!" A scarlet eyed, white haired man with an obvious German accent, slid up next to Alfred. Without a word of request three shots of the mystery drink were placed in front of him.

"I see you managed to escape your baby sitter." Alfred quipped, hoping the man would walk the fuck away so that he could focus on keeping the damage for the night to a minimum.

"He's just in the bathroom freshening up. He says he doesn't enjoy my sweat all over him, especially after going at it in such a filthy place, which is absurd because my sweat makes it even more awesome." He knocked back two out of his three shots in under five seconds. "You know how Rodders is."

"You should probably go find him. I have my own person to baby sit. And I think I see yours headed this way with… is that a leash? No! I don't need to know any more about your kinks than I already do." As Alfred turned away from the cackling man to keep an eye on Arthur, all he saw was a line of nine glasses and a green eyed blond, but not his green eyed blond.

"Looks like you're failing at your job. He's headed for the dance floor." A commotion involving three voices sounded from the indicated location and his friend narrowed his ruby eyes. "This should be good."

Alfred took off after his clearly drunk off his ass partner, hoping that he wasn't the cause of whatever was about to happen. That's when everything being said became clear.

"Step off feta breath! It's my turn to dance with Kiku. Why don't you go bore someone to sleep with your stupid cat talk?"

"Why don't you leave Kiku alone? He dances with me more because he likes me more than you. He only danced with you out of pity!"

"Heracles-san! Sadiq-san! There is no need to fight over me!"

As Alfred made his way through the crowd, the scene unfolding before him showed signs of chaos but thankfully not caused by Arthur. The tanned, masked man held one arm of the tiny Asian man against his chest and glared over his head at the man with the cat tattooed over his heart that held the Asian man's other arm hostage. Arthur was thank fully nowhere in sight.

_Where the hell did he go?_

My Anaconda don't

My Anaconda don't

My Anaconda don't want none unless you got

Buns hun

The two glaring men nodded at each other and released the poor middle man's arms while taking a few steps back.

"Twerk off!" They yelled simultaneously as they dropped into twerk position, asses toward the object of their desires.

Now that's real real real

Gun in my purse, bitch I came dressed to kill

Who wanna go first? I had them pushing daffodils

I'm high as hell, I only took half a pill

I'm on some dumb shit

The way those two were moving their asses promised back pain well into their golden years, but it was impressive that they could keep it up as long as they did.

"Amateurs!" A slurred, but still very much British accented voice carried over the music. "Let me show you how it's done!" Everyone turned their attention toward the bar where, much to Alfred's chagrin, Arthur was climbing up on to the surface, somehow only stumbling once. _When the fuck did he get over there?! _Alfred shoved his way through the crowd praying that he got there before Arthur pulled a Miley Cyrus.

What Alfred saw once he finally reached the front had him questioning whether or not he wanted to stop him.

He keep telling me to chill

He keep telling me it's real, that he love my sex appeal

Because he don't like 'em boney, he want

Something he can grab

So I pull up in the Jag, and I hit him with the jab like…

Dun-d-d-dun-dun-d-d-dun-dun

If asked fifty years from now, how he would describe Arthur twerking, Alfred would only be able to call it hypnotic. The way Arthur threw his ass in a circle and popped it up and down left Alfred breathless and had his blood shifting southward. All of that was only intensified by a cheering Feliks throwing handful after handful of glitter over Arthur's head.

"Alfred, comrade, I am glad your friend is having good time," Ivan appeared over Alfred's shoulder, nearly causing his heart to give out "but if he does not get off the bar I will have to introduce him to the magic metal pipe of pain… if Vash does not shoot him down first."

"Got it." Alfred signaled for Vash to lower the sniper rifle that he knew was trained on Arthur before walking up to the bar and yelling "Get the fuck down dude!"

"THEY DON'T CALL ME ARTHUR 'TWERKLAND' FOR NOTHIN'! WOOOOOOO!" Arthur shouted as he fell backward into Alfred's arms. He planted several kisses and bites on Alfred's exposed neck before whispering "Take me home you sexy American beast. I want you."

"You're drunk." Alfred carried Arthur out to his car and leaned him against the rear passenger side door as he attempted to unlock the front door. A task that was becoming much more difficult because his drunk companion was trying to get his hand down the front of Alfred's pants.

"And you're bloody sexy." Arthur sat down in the passenger seat and trapped Alfred between his legs. "I want you to take me, right here. Fuck me like a bitch. Make me scream your name. I don't wanna be able to move tomorrow. Arthur tried unbuttoning Alfred's jeans, but failed miserably thanks to his uncoordinated fingers. Alfred quickly made his escape to the driver's seat for what was sure to be an eventful ride home if Arthur's wandering hands were any type of hint.

* * *

><p>Alfred somehow managed to get them safely back to Arthur's house, even though Arthur did damn near everything in his power, short of grabbing the wheel and driving them to the side of the road, to get Alfred to pull over and fuck him senseless. Once Arthur had successfully got the door unlocked, he grabbed Alfred by the front of his shirt and pulled him in for a wet, sloppy kiss. He kicked the door closed and pulled Alfred along as he walked backward into his bedroom.<p>

"Arthur we shouldn't do this." Alfred tried to reason but it was too late, Arthur had already dropped his pants and viciously ripped open his shirt.

"Don't say we shouldn't, love. I know you really want to." Arthur finally succeeded in undoing Alfred's pants and, pulling down his boxers, pushed him back on to the bed.

"Arthur. Stop." His efforts fell on deaf ears as Arthur's mouth descended on his cock.

_Let this happen Alfred. He's offering, you may as well accept._

Arthur ran his tongue up the vein on the underside of Alfred's dick, causing him to let out a strangled moan as that devious tongue made a circuit around his tip.

"Arthur please- aah- stop." Alfred groaned as Arthur took him down to the hilt. Every fiber of his being was telling him to thrust into Arthur's mouth until he fell over the edge into bliss. Every swipe of Arthur's tongue and bob of his head inched him closer and closer to that edge until finally…

"Aaaaaah!" Alfred felt Arthur swallowing everything he had to offer and no matter how much he tried to push him away, Arthur was determined to stay put until Alfred was done. As Alfred lay trying to catch his breath, Arthur kissed and licked a trail up the abs that had been tempting him since the day he met the gorgeously, infuriatingly, beautifully bleu eyed American. He finally reached Alfred's lips, stealing away what little breath he had managed to regain, with a hard kiss. And as much as Alfred wanted to continue down the path that the forest eyed ash blond was laying out for him, he would hate himself for in the morning for taking advantage of a person while they were unable to make responsible, informed decisions. Steeling his resolve, he pushed Arthur away and refused to meet his drunkenly confused and offended eyes.

"Arthur, please don't go any further. You're not thinking clearly right now. You wouldn't act like this normally, so please stop." Alfred tried to say it as gently but clearly as humanly possible, but the way Arthur's expression twisted from confused offence to pure fury informed that he had failed.

"You stupid fucking American bag of dripping cunts! I just sucked you off and you leave me high and dry?" Arthur's voice shook a little as he berated Alfred for rejecting him and Al could tell that he had wounded him deeply. "Fuck you Alfred F. Jones! Get the fuck out of my bed! I HATE YOU!"

"Arthur, I'm sorry." Alfred reached over to touch Arthur's shoulder, but Arthur had reached over to his bedside table and threw something at Alfred that he just barely dodged so that it shattered against the wall.

"GET OUT!" Arthur screamed as he flopped down on his pillows.

Rising from the bed Alfred walked over to the door with a quiet "Good night Arthur." When Arthur did not respond Alfred closed the door with a deep sigh.

* * *

><p>"I came back in a little while later to make sure you were still okay. You were passed out so I left you some aspirin and cleaned up the glass before tucking you in. I stayed over so I could keep an eye on you. With as much of that stuff as you drank, I'm surprised you're even up right now." Alfred finished the story while washing the dishes, listening to Arthur thump his head repeatedly against the table's surface.<p>

"I'm so sorry you witnessed that. But I think I have some good news for you bad news for me information about the identity of you mystery friend. Thought I really wish I didn't."

"Oh? Then you've just added another question to my list. Answer that one first then I'll ask the rest." Alfred sat back down and stared at the brit with interest.

"You're somewhat aware of famous dancers, yes? Well that was Gilbert Beilschimdt, who happens to be a master of skill and a judge of the competition we're in. That baby sitter you mentioned, 'Rodders'? That happens to be Roderich Edelstein, a technique master and Gilbert's longtime boyfriend, also a judge in our competition. They are both old acquaintances."

"Really? Awesome! Now for a more pressing question. Did they really call you 'Arthur Twerkland'?" The smirk on Alfred's face turned into a shit eating grin as Arthur turned a shade of red that cardinals would envy.

"It was one time! In college! And it was a lesson in the evils of Jungle Juice and drinking with Gilbert!" Arthur's distressed voice just made the entire situation funnier.

"That's a story I've got to hear. Do you have a history of dancing on bars, or was that just a one-time thing? Dude we've got to party together more often! We'll invite everyone and you can show us why they call you Arthur Twerkland again…"

"Alfreeeeeeeeed." Was all he heard before the tea pot went airborne.

* * *

><p>AN 2: Well that was fun wasn't it? This chapter was brought to you by The Gospel Truth by Alan Mekhen, Shots by Lil Jon, and Anaconda by Nicki Minaj. (I want you to understand something, with the exception of The Gospel Truth, I actually despise these songs. The only reason they're here is for story movement. Please do not judge me by it.) As always credit for our musical selections goes to the "artists", writers, and producers. I own nothing here but this story and any choreography there in. Reviews are as always welcome. Now something fun for you guys to think about. There are a few side stories going on in this fic and I'm going to expand on them. So what I need from you is to tell me what you want to see first. Do you want to see the Maple Syrup Fiasco, The Origin of Arthur Twerkland, or Whatever is going on with Turkey Greece and Japan? Let me know please and thank you! See you next time!


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